Hell Hath No Fury
by Emily Blake
Summary: When one of their own mysteriously disappears during a murder investigation, the team's skills are put to the ultimate test. But they soon learn it's hard to hope when you don't know if you're looking for a friend or looking for a body. Milkshake Buddies!
1. End of a Day, End of a Life

**Author's Note: **I'M BAAAACK! hahaha and it feels so great! Welcome to my latest story, I'm so excited to share it with all of you. I hope you like it! I'm back at school now, so I most likely won't be able to do my usual daily chapter gig unfortunately. :( But once I start writing one of these fics I usually can't stop until it's done, so who knows! :D The chapters might just be a little shorter than usual, I haven't decided how I'm going to do this yet. Love you, read on friends!

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**I**

"Hey, Ryan," Natalia greeted as she walked into the locker room.

Ryan didn't turn around or respond as she passed behind him, heading toward her own locker.

Natalia raised a quizzical eyebrow at her friend, taking a step toward him. She frowned when she saw his eyes were closed and he was massaging his temples with one hand. His face was pale and sweaty and his shoulders were slouched forward as if the weight of the world were on them.

She placed a hand on his shoulder. "Ryan?"

He jumped and looked at her, as if surprised to see her there. "Huh?"

"Are you okay?" she asked, her voice concerned.

He grinned and seemed to shake himself off. "I'm fine."

Natalia looked at him doubtfully. Usually her friend was a good liar, good at hiding his troubles from other people, but she could see right through him this time.

Ryan noticed that look in her eye, secretly both amused and a little annoyed at how easily she could read him sometimes.

"This case is just starting to get to me, that's all," he admitted.

"Yeah, you look a little pale," she remarked. "You feeling okay?"

He hesitated, then shrugged. "I'm just tired."

She reached a hand up to feel his forehead. He quickly recoiled from her touch.

"Natalia, I'm fine!" he cried, obviously attempting to laugh her off.

She wasn't amused. "You feel a little warm, Ryan," she said seriously.

"I'm just worked up about the case, that's all," he told her offhandedly, busying himself with gathering up his jacket and closing his locker back up.

She surveyed him for a few moments, but she knew pushing the matter would only drive him deeper into that damn shell of his. She returned to her own locker and started spinning the lock's numbers to form the combination.

"So how is the case?" she asked mildly. "I've been up to my eyeballs in DNA reports all day, I never really got a chance to ask you or Calleigh about it."

Ryan sighed. "We still haven't been able to pin the guy. All of our suspects are checking out. They all have some kind of alibi and they don't match the DNA we found on the two victims."

Natalia frowned. "You found the same DNA on two victims killed at different times? You thinking serial killer?"

Ryan leaned against his locker, his arms folded across his chest as he looked at her. "Kind of hard to say yet," he said quietly, his gaze drifting off into space, lost in thought. "But it's certainly turning out that way. Both of the victims were women, fairly young and prostitutes, killed within two weeks of each other. But there aren't any physical characteristics that are similar between them. The first was short and blonde, and the second was a tall Asian girl. Their only connection was their occupation."

"So your guy doesn't have a fixation with a certaintype of woman yet," Natalia remarked, digging her keys out of her purse.

Ryan shook his head. "Making his next move and victim even more unpredictable."

"And you found DNA on both victims?"

"Yeah," Ryan answered. "Perfect match, same guy had sex with both women right before they died. The worst part is he doesn't have a record. We even tried the national databases."

Natalia closed her locker with a clang. "Well, hang in there. You'll get him."

His hazel eyes were pained as he met her gaze. "It's been almost two weeks since the second victim. If he is a serial, he'll start to accelerate, meaning there could be a new victim on the table any day now, if he hasn't killed her already."

Natalia smiled at him kindly. "You'll drive yourself crazy thinking like that. All you can do is start again tomorrow."

He sighed again, coughing slightly into his sleeve. "I know, I just hate to think that this guy is out there, that's all."

They stood quietly for a moment. Natalia knew there were no words of comfort or encouragement she could offer that would make him feelbetter. She worried about Ryan sometimes. Usually he was completely steadfast on a case, as if nothing could bother him. But once in a while he got that look in his eye, the look that meant he was taking something to heart and was, despite his professionalism, still deeply affected sometimes. It happened to everybody on the job, but Ryan was the kind of person who kept his feelings bottled up inside until they ate away at him. Natalia hated to see him suffer in silence like that.

"You heading out?" he asked her, breaking the comfortable silence.

She smiled. "Yup. I would ask you if you want to go for a drink or a milkshake or something, but you look like you should just go straight to bed."

He chuckled. "That's right, you're off tomorrow, aren't you?"

She smiled even wider. "Oh yeah, I can't wait."

"Plans?"

"Oh, I don't know," she said playfully. "Thought maybe I'd go out on the town, get hammered, hook up with a couple random guys... You know, the usual."

"So... sleep in, catch up on soaps, get takeout for dinner and rent a movie?"

She laughed. "Yeah."

**-()-**

Simon Clovis sat in the front seat of his beat-up Toyota, chewing his fingernails down to nubs. His hands shook as he gnawed on them even after there were no longer any nails left to bite. Blood oozed forth from a few of his nailbeds, having broken the skin in a few places. He ignored the angry sting of exposed pink skin where he had peeled it off.

His watery blue eyes were wide and bloodshot. He hadn't slept in nearly three days. His breath hitched in his chest as if he were drowning. Tears quivered at the edges of his eyes, precariously close to spilling over down his unshaven face.

He didn't want to do this.

And yet he had to do this.

A few speckles of raindrops started musically splattering onto his dirty windshield. He scanned the darkness, half-illuminated by the yellow streetlights. Finally he saw her.

He put his car in gear and pulled up to the curb slowly, rolling down the passenger side window. The young woman regarded him for a moment, and then came up to door. She leaned in halfway through the window, pushing out her chest seductively. Her face was exhausted and caked with thick makeup and grime. She had long, curly brown hair that looked as if it hadn't been combed in at least a week.

She looked at him under darkly shadowed eyes. "You lookin' for a date, sugar?" she purred.

Simon swallowed thickly and nodded, his whole body quivering ferociously.

"It's three hundred a turn, five hundred a night," she murmured to him, slowly stroking a stray lock of hair from her face and looking at him sidelong.

Simon nodded again and unlocked the door.

The young woman climbed into his car and closed the door. Simon quickly pulled away from the curb and sped off into the night.

The girl lay a silky hand on his leg, softly stroking his thigh. Her touch sent a carnal shudder of desire shooting up his spine, tingling every last nerve in his body.

She belonged to him now, or at least she would very soon. Maybe she would finally be the one to quench his thirst.

The first two had failed. They had proved less than satisfactory.

His hunger had once again reached an unbearable peak and only this could make it stop, at least for a little while. He hoped this girl would find a way to satisfy his uncontrollable desire.

He hoped she would succeed, because he didn't want to have to kill her too.

* * *

**Author's Note**: So there you have it! Another start to another story :D. PLEASE REVIEW! I'm so nuts about them, it's ridiculous. They really do inspire me to write more and faster, so if you want more, tell me so! :P The massive ego boost I get from them doesn't hurt either lol. Hope you enjoyed, more to come ASAP!


	2. Six Feet Under the Weather

**II**

Ryan very suddenly became aware of the sound of rain falling lightly above his head. His mind was far too groggy to immediately understand what was going on. It took him a moment to remember that he was home in bed.

Nausea roiled in the pit of his stomach, waves of it shooting from his gut all the way up to the back of his throat, leaving a foul, burning taste in his mouth. Every inch of his body ached as if he had just run a marathon or two, his joints feeling like rusty metal.

His eyes burned mercilessly. He lifted a shaky hand to rub them and he was slightly surprised to find his face drenched in sweat. His head felt as if it was pulsating heat, but the rest of him felt cold.

Ryan rolled over, trying to find a cool spot on his pillow. His gaze lit upon the bright green numbers on the digital clock on his bedside table. He groaned when he realized he was indeed seeing the numbers right: 4:24 a.m.

Coughs erupted from deep within Ryan's chest, painfully jarring his entire body. He gasped for air, but he felt like he was drowning inside his own lungs. It took him a few moments to catch his breath as he lay in bed, as awake as his beleaguered mind would allow him to be.

He felt _awful_.

Ryan drifted in and out of restless sleep from that point on. He lost track of the number of times he turned over in his sleep or clutched the covers closer to his shivering body. He half-heartedly punched his pillow in frustration.

A blaring noise suddenly erupted next to his ear. He opened one bleary eye to peer at the ringing alarm clock. The feeling he had awoken with in the middle of the night felt magnified by a hundred. His eyelids felt too heavy to even open. He moaned when he made the mistake of trying to move, but he forced his hand to fall roughly on the clock to shut it off.

Ryan sighed heavily, triggering another coughing fit. He slowly gathered himself, and then sat up. His bedroom seemed to spin around him as his fevered head throbbed thickly. Ryan let himself fall back onto the pillow, his eyes closed as he tried to focus on taking one measured breath at a time, a task in itself. He coughed wetly over and over again, each one feeling as if someone was hacking into his chest with a dull axe.

With a sinking feeling in his already quaking stomach, Ryan realized there was no way he'd be able to go to work that day. He doubted he could stand up, let alone drive. He couldn't remember a time when he'd ever been this sick in his entire life, ever been so unable to even hold himself up.

He couldn't help but think he might actually be dying this time.

* * *

**Author's Note: **A bit shorter than I'd like... but I figured I'd rather give you chapters more often than long ones. If you disagree, let me know please. Oooo and lookie, I started giving my chapters titles! lol I've never done that before, figured I'd try it out!

Oh, what have I gone and done to Ryan this time? Poor baby. And it's only gonna get worse for him, just wait and see... ;) Review pretty please with a cherry on top?


	3. Change of Plans

**III**

Natalia narrowed her eyes and furrowed her brow in the deepest of thought, chewing her bottom lip idly. This was a very important decision, one that could very well make or break her entire day.

_Eggs and bacon or pancakes?_

She stood barefoot, bouncing on the balls of her feet, in her kitchen wearing her silk bathrobe, her hair still wet from the shower as she scoured the contents of her refrigerator. She quietly chuckled at herself for her child-like excitement for a home-cooked breakfast for a change. Usually it was a muffin and coffee to go as she ran out the door to work, but she always treated herself to something special on her days off.

Finally making up her mind, Natalia pulled out the carton of eggs, a package of bacon, butter and a bag of shredded cheese. After depositing all of that on her counter, she went back for the orange juice and a container of yogurt. Natalia began humming softly as she bent down to get a frying pan from under the sink and place it on the stove.

Just as Natalia was about to crack the first egg into the mixing bowl, her cell phone rang. She put the egg back in the carton and scurried over to the table to answer the call.

Her stomach sank slightly when she saw it was Horatio calling.

There was usually only one reason why he ever called anyone on their day off.

She forced a smile on her face and flipped open her phone, holding it to her ear.

"Hello?" she answered in the most cheerful voice she could muster.

"Good morning, Miss Boa Vista," came Horatio's low, gravelly voice through the speaker.

"Hi, H," she saidtightly, fighting to stay positive. "What's up?"

"I'm sorry, I know it's your day off...," he began.

"But you need me to come in to the lab...?" Natalia finished tentatively.

His silence was enough of an answer. Natalia bit back a sigh of frustration as she closed her eyes and threw her head back in exasperation. She swallowed her feelings of annoyance.

"Okay, I can be there in half an hour," she told him, straining to keep the disappointment out of her voice. "If you don't mind my asking, who called in sick?"

_If it was Liz again, I'm going to strangle her,_ Natalia thought viciously, angrily picturing the new DNA analyst who'd already used three sick days this month.

"It was Ryan."

Natalia froze. She frowned, thinking surely she had heard that incorrectly.

"Ryan? Ryan Wolfe?"

"Yes."

Her disappointment melted into confusion and a touch of worry. "Ryan Wolfe," she repeated numbly. "CSI Ryan Wolfe. The guy who's never missed a day of work in his life?"

Horatio's lack of answer served as an affirmation.

"Is he okay?" she asked, starting to put her breakfast ingredients back in the refrigerator.

"He sounded very sick over the phone," Horatio said simply. "I'm sure he's fine."

"I don't know, if Ryan called in sick he must be either dead or dying," Natalia said dryly.

She could hear the smile in his voice. "See you soon."

"Bye, H."

Natalia hung up the phone. She finished putting away all her breakfast things and began climbing the stairs back up to her bedroom to get dressed.

_Looks like it's coffee and toast today after all, _she thought wryly.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Ryan owes Nat an omelette lol. What's wrong with Ryan? Will Natalia ever get her awesome breakfast? Only time will tell ;P. Stay tuned for more! Reviews rock! :D


	4. Checking Up

**IV**

Natalia was in her car and halfway to the lab when she took out her cell phone and dialed her best friend's number. As the rings continued, she thought he wouldn't answer. But then there came a click and the ringing stopped. There was a pause before an almost unrecognizable voice crackled through the speaker.

"... Hello?"

Natalia was at first too shocked to speak. Ryan sounded _terrible_! His voice was thick and hoarse, sounding as if he were trying to talk underwater.

"Ryan? It's Natalia."

At first he said nothing, and then he groaned loudly.

"They called you in to cover me, didn't they?" he cried woefully.

"It's okay, Ryan," she assured him. "You sound like you're the one who needed the day off today."

"I'm so sorry," he moaned. His voice erupted in a violent coughing fit.

"Really, sweetie, it's okay," she repeated. "I just called to check on you. How you doing?"

"Ugh, I feel like I'm dying."

Natalia grinned. "Everybody thinks that when they're sick. What are your symptoms?"

She heard him sigh exhaustedly on the other end, sounding as if it were a chore to merely stay awake. "I have a fever, chills, muscle aches, my head is killing me and all I want to do is throw up. Not to mention I think I may actually cough up a lung any minute now."

"Oh, poor Ryan," she said sympathetically. "Sounds like the flu. Drink lots of fluids."

"I would if I thought it would stay down," Ryan mumbled. He coughed again.

"You need to stay hydrated, Ryan," she told him seriously. "You don't want your fever to get any worse."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he muttered dismissively.

Natalia made a turn, only a few minutes away from work. "I'm almost at the lab," she told him. "I'll drop by later to check on you."

"You don't have to...," he began.

"That wasn't a question," she quipped, smirking. She could just picture the sour face he was making at that moment. "See you later!"

She laughed at his incoherent grumbling and hung up the phone.

If she was giving up her day off for him, no way was she not going to have some fun at his expense.

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**Author's Note: **Is it just the flu? Something else? And what the heck happened with Simon and the "lady-friend" he picked up? Find out next time (or not, who knows! :P). Reviews are my sunshine, oh won't you please give me a sunny day? :D


	5. The Third Victim

**V**

Natalia pulled up to the crime scene and stepped out of the Hummer. She signed in with a police officer and ducked under the yellow tape, heading toward where Calleigh and Tripp were standing.

They were in a dim alleyway near a huge, rusty dumpster. Calleigh and Tripp were standing next to it, peering over the side into the stinky depths. Natalia walked up to stand behind Calleigh. Tom was inside the dumpster examining the body of a young woman with curly brown hair. She was dressed provacatively and looked as if she hadn't bathed in days. Everything about her screamed "prostitute."

"I don't care what you do for a living, no one deserves to be tossed out with the garbage," Tripp rumbled.

"Yeah," Calleigh agreed quietly.

"We got a name?" Natalia asked.

They both whirled around, not having noticed her approach.

"I thought you were off today," Calleigh remarked surprisedly.

"Ryan called in sick, I'm covering him," Natalia answered.

They made confused, questioning faces. Ryan's cleanliness was the stuff of lab legend. No one could remember a time he'd ever been ill.

Natalia understood their expressions and nodded. "I know. I called him, he sounds pretty awful."

"Well, he picked a hell of a day to get sick," Frank said dryly. "Looks like we got another victim to add to his killer's rap sheet, here. He's the primary on this case."

Natalia frowned. "Another one? Ryan told me about the case. Are you sure?"

Calleigh shrugged. "We won't know until after the post, but there are already definite similarities. Prostitute dumped in the trash in an alleyway, preliminary cause of death is a single gunshot wound to the head."

"Double lividity!" Tom's voice chimed up from within the dumpster.

"She was killed somewhere else," Natalia remarked quietly.

"Just like the other two," Calleigh told her. "As much as I hate to say it, but hopefully this woman can help us add some suspects to our pool."

"Witnesses?" Natalia asked.

"She was found by a waiter bringing out the morning's trash from the diner next door. He checks out, though," Tripp said. "No one else has come forward."

"There's a security camera across the street," Calleigh said. "Horatio's over there with a warrant now to get last night's tapes."

"Probably won't get anything, though," Tripp added darkly. "His back would've been to the camera for the most part. The last girl was killed near a camera too, but the bastard knew to keep his face hidden from the camera."

"So he's not completely stupid, unfortunately," Natalia muttered.

She looked down at the ground, scanning for any evidence as she walked away slowly. The cracked pavement was darker in some places than in others. Natalia frowned and squatted down next to a particularly large area of darkness.

"Did it rain last night?" Natalia said out loud, asking no one in particular.

"Only for a couple hours around 2 or 3, I think," Calleigh answered, bending down to examine the ground near the dumpster.

Natalia turned to look at the convenience store across the street. She saw the security camera mounted on the corner of the wall. She turned back to look at the dark patch of asphalt, the wheels in her mind turning.

Natalia grinned. She had an idea.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Thanks to everyone who's sticking with me on this one. :) I only wish I could crank out chapters faster for you! Anyways, hope you're enjoying it so far, more to come soon. Reviews make me oh so happy! *hinthint* :D


	6. The Sickness is Rising

**VI**

Ryan lay heavily on his couch, half-heartedly wishing he could sink right through it and into the ground. He didn't really know why, but then again he wasn't exactly thinking very clearly at the moment.

He was wearing his light grey sweatpants along with his maroon Boston College hoodie. He had wrapped his comforter from his bed upstairs around himself as he carefully shuffled downstairs in his thickly socked feet. But he was still cold. He knew it was from the fever, but he was too sick and tired to care. He just wanted to feel warm. He was sweating profusely.

Before collapsing on the couch, from which he hadn't stirred in nearly three hours, he'd forced himself into the kitchen. He'd poured himself a glass of clear soda, hoping it would help settle his stomach, and then grabbed a box of crackers from the pantry. He'd carefully carried both out to the couch with him, placing them on the coffee table in front of it, but he had yet to touch the crackers. It was all he could do to periodically force himself to take sips of soda.

He lay there for a long time, flipping through the television channels aimlessly, but there was never anything good on. Damn, daytime TV sucked!

He dozed off a few times, but all the pain and discomfort wracking his body never let him stay under for more than a few minutes. He vaguely remembered his phone ringing once, but he let it go to voicemail.

A wave of molten heat suddenly erupted somewhere behind his navel. He knew exactly what that meant.

Moving faster than he had all day, he tore the comforter off of himself and practically dove toward the bathroom. His OCD seemed to crack a whip in his head to get there before he vomited all over his clean floor. Ryan threw himself against the toilet, just in time to throw up into it. He couldn't do anything to stop his stomach from purging itself over and over again, even when there was nothing left to get out.

Finally it stopped. Ryan sat on the cool tile of his bathroom floor, leaning heavily against the toilet seat. He pushed the lever and listened to the flushing water, his whole body shaking violently with weakness. He sat there for he didn't know how long, resting his fevered head on his arms crossed atop the seat.

His eyes felt as is they had suddenly been attached to swivels. He couldn't focus on anything, no matter how hard he blinked. His head throbbed with vertigo.

Ryan eased himself down until he was lying on the floor. The tile felt cold against his blazing skin. He lay there with his eyes closed, the waves of dizziness slowly beginning to dissipate as he forced his beleaguered lungs to take breath after breath.

He had absolutely no desire to move from that spot. His breath hitched in chest as he coughed wetly and gasped for air. His muscles didn't have a single ounce of the energy needed to make him get up and get back to the couch.

As he lay there on the floor, almost too weak to feel miserable, he found himself unable to remember what it felt like to be healthy. His thoughts idled about meaninglessly.

Sometimes the strangest things popped into his head. At one point he was pretty sure he was thinking about how he should get a dog. A clean one. One that wouldn't drool or shed or make messes in the house... Maybe a cat would be a better bet. Or a plant. Like a cactus. Something he couldn't kill even if he tried.

Then his mind drifted over to the case he was neglecting by being sick. Some sicko was killing prostitutes and dumping their bodies in public places. Why? To get out of paying the fee? Because he liked it? Just because he could? Trying to understand the reasons behind murder was starting to make him feel sick again, so he stopped.

Ryan stayed on the floor, bizzarely wishing he could melt into it. Maybe that would make him feel better.

At that point he was starting to think nothing would make him feel better ever again.

* * *

**Author's Note: **The chapter title is a lyric from "Down with the Sickness" by Disturbed. Poor Ryan! Ugh, I remember being sick like this. I've been there with the whole lying-on-the-bathroom-floor-'cause-you're-too-sick-to-move thing. It sucks. Anyway, what was Natalia's idea last chapter? Find out next time! Suffice it to say she's a smart cookie!


	7. Closer Inspection

**VII**

"Hey, Dave," Natalia said, walking into the AV lab. "Is that the security footage from our body dump this morning?"

The ponytailed tech didn't take his eyes from the screen. "Yeah, I just got it. It's pretty dark, though. Not sure what you're hoping to get off it."

"Can you fast forward to midnight?" she asked, standing next to him.

Dave pressed a few buttons and the video immediately began zooming forward. "Looking for anything in particular?"

"Time of death on our victim was somewhere around 2 o'clock in the morning," Natalia explained. "I figure our killer would want to dump the body as soon as possible."

Dave slowed down the fast-forwarding when they reached the recording of midnight. He scrolled through carefully, watching closely for any changes on the screen. When the timestamp at the bottom of the video read 3:45 a.m., a car pulled up to the curb. Dave quickly switched the video from fast-forward to real-time playback.

They both watched with narrowed eyes as a man in a black jacket climbed out of the car. They couldn't see his face, as he had a dark baseball cap pulled down low over his eyes.

"The video being in black and white doesn't help much," Dave remarked. "But I'd say you're looking for a middle-aged caucasian male, about 5-10, 5-11 maybe?"

The man in the video went back to the trunk of his car, opened it and began lifting out the body of the woman found in the dumpster. Natalia's stomach clenched at the sight. She and Dave stood silently as he carried her from his car back toward the alley.

"Freeze it," Natalia suddenly said.

Dave complied. He looked at the screen, but then at Natalia, confused.

"There's nothing really to see here..." he began hesitantly.

Natalia pointed to the top right corner of the screen. "Can you pull in tighter on this spot?"

Dave did as she asked, magnifying that portion of the screen. He still didn't see anything, just a blurry bit of light.

"What is that?" he asked her.

"It rained last night," Natalia said quickly, starting to get excited about possible catching a break in the case. "I found dark spots on the pavement where it was still a little damp. We're looking at a puddle."

Dave grinned, catching on. "You thinking we caught our guy's reflection on tape?"

Natalia looked at him excitedly. "Think you can get anything off it?"

Dave shrugged and started playing around with the image on the screen. "I might be able to move a couple pixels around and extrapolate an image, but it'll take some time. And I have to warn you, any image I get will be blurry at best. The ripples on the water's surface is gonna distort it."

"Would it be enough for the facial comparison software?" Natalia asked him, hoping upon hope for some good luck.

"I doubt it," he said disappointedly. He thought for a moment. "But I might be able to get enough to recreate his face in a digital composite."

"Like a sketch artist's rendition?" she asked, impressed and curious.

"Kind of," he answered, still tinkering with the image. "I have a program that draws out any prominent features that can be detected from the reflection. Then it adds its own digital components that fill in the missing stuff using biomechanics."

"Sounds fancy," Natalia commented.

Dave grinned. "It is _very _fancy. The final image might be too compromised to run through facial recognition software in, say, the driver's license database, but it could help put one of your suspects at the scene."

Natalia folded her arms in front of her. "At this point... I'll take whatever we can get. This guy in not going to stop until we make him."

* * *

**Author's Note: **So Nat thought to look for the guy's reflection in the puddle, she's so smart! :D Will it work? I dunno. ;P Please review? They've been dropping off recently. Is it the short chapters, do they annoy you guys or something? You're probably just all busy ;P. Hope to hear from you! Special thanks to Mel, Hobby-Writing, fergie, MrsGCallen and csimiamifreak for being my most consistent reviewers! :D


	8. The Next Step

**VIII**

"Miss Boa Vista."

Natalia looked up from the file she was reading and smiled at Horatio. "Hi."

"Thank you for coming in today."

"Oh, no problem," she said. "Glad I could help."

"I'm sure Mr. Wolfe would be relieved to know you're the one taking over for him on this case."

Natalia grinned. "Are you kidding? If I beat him to cracking this one just because he got sick, he'll be insufferable."

Horatio smirked. "Did you need something from me?"

"Yes, actually," she said, pushing aside the file to give him her full attention. "Dave is almost done creating a composited digital image of our killer's face. We caught part of him on tape in a reflection."

"Go on," he said interestedly.

"I was hoping you'd give me permission to release the image to the media," she said hesitantly.

He didn't seem immediately against it, merely thoughtful, which was encouraging to her.

"We can't run the image through the facial comparison software because it's too degraded and reverse-engineered," she explained quickly. "And the DNA is a dead-end because this guy doesn't have a record. Valera confirmed a few minutes ago that this is the same guy who murdered the first two prostitutes. At this point, I think we have to take this thing to next level."

"You're hoping someone out there will recognize him," Horatio remarked quietly.

Natalia nodded. "At the very least, we may be able to get a few new suspects out of it."

Horatio thought quietly for a few moments, obviously weighing the pros and the cons of this strategy. Natalia waited anxiously, practically holding her breath.

He looked at her and nodded. "Let's do that."

**-()-**

Ryan lay on the couch staring blankly at the TV, absolutely dumbfounded.

Who _wrote _this nonsense?

On the screen, a hot blonde chick was led into the commissioner's office by an unrealistically handsome patrol officer. She stood in front of the ridiculously lavish desk, at which sat an older gentleman with a sorrowful look on his face.

"What's going on, Alec?" she asked innocently.

The man sighed heavily. "You know exactly what's going on, Beverly."

The camera zoomed in on Beverly's shocked face.

Alec stood up from the desk and began heavily pacing the office, his hands behind his back, circling her.

"You almost got away with it, didn't you?" he said. "You thought you would get the life insurance money on your husband's death, run away with Bryce and not get caught, didn't you?"

The look on Beverly's face went from confused to blatantly panicked as she watched him circle her.

Ryan wished Horatio would try this pacing thing in their next interrogation. It would totally screw with everyone involved.

"That's preposterous!" Beverly hissed. "How could you possibly know that?"

"Way to give yourself away, lady," Ryan grumbled. "Rule number one when being interrogated: deny, deny, deny. Fail, Beverly. Absolute fail."

"You didn't kill Langdon that night, Beverly...," Alec said, the dramatic background music coming to a crescendo.

The office door suddenly swung wide open and Langdon, remarkably alive-looking, came striding through the door with a steely look in his eye.

Needless to say, Beverly proceeded to pitch a fit. "But I killed you!" she shrieked, backing into the desk away from Langdon. "I felt your heart stop beating! Your blood was on my hands!"

"No, Beverly," Langdon said darkly, stepping forward. "You didn't kill me. You killed... my identical twin brother, Lawson."

"Oh snap," Ryan muttered.

"I never told you about him," Langdon said. He dramatically turned to the handsome patrol officer. "Get her out of my sight."

As Beverly was being dragged away in cuffs, she turned around to scream at Langdon one more time. "But I love you!"

Langdon sighed heavily. "I wish I could say the same, Bev. I wish I could say the same."

"Double snap," Ryan grunted.

When Beverly was gone, Langdon turned to Alec. "You didn't tell her?"

Alec looked at the ground. "I couldn't... It's better that she never knows that I'm... her father."

"That does it," Ryan growled, clicking a button on the remote to change the channel.

_Thank goodness real-life police work isn't nearly that melodramatic, _he thought dryly.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I added the second half for funsies :P I've always wondered what real-life CSIs and cops thought of our beloved show XD And of course Ryan talks at the TV just like me lol. Reviews are as delightful as a flower on a Monday! Not sure where that analogy came from, but hey if it gets y'all to leave me a review... ;)


	9. The Face of a Killer

**IX**

Natalia took a deep breath to calm the butterflies in her stomach. She couldn't help but get a little nervous. She hadn't been on television in almost five years, not since her days working for the feds.

"Thank you all for coming today," she said, her voice ringing out clear and confident, much to her relief.

The various members of the press listened with rapt attention, their microphones and video cameras poised in Natalia's direction.

"The Miami-Dade police department is seeking help from the citizens of Miami in identifying a suspect," she continued. She gestured to the giant poster behind her, which had a large image of the killer's face on it. "We are in pursuit of this man, who we believe may have been involved in one or more murders."

A few of the reporters clamored over each other in their attempts to get their questions answered first.

"Where did this image come from?"

"Who is this man suspected of killing?"

"I can't discuss details of an ongoing investigation," Natalia said. "We were able to digitally recreate this image using footage obtained with a search warrant."

"Where did the footage come from?"

"What did the footage show?"

"Who was murdered?"

Natalia caught herself before she sighed. She'd forgotten how overwhelming the press could be sometimes.

**-()-**

Ryan flipped through the channels aimlessly, still feeling like he'd been run over by a truck as he lay on his couch. He hadn't dared to try eating the crackers, but since his bout of puking he'd at least been able to keep some soda down. The cough was the worst part; every time they wracked his entire frame he felt as if he were trying to cough up barbed wire. His chest ached fiercely the whole time.

Ryan suddenly flipped back a channel. He hadn't imagined it.

Natalia was on television!

"The Miami-Dade police department is seeking help from the citizens of Miami in identifying a suspect," she said.

Ryan frowned. What suspect? Was this his case?

"We are in pursuit of this man, who we believe may have been involved in one or more murders," she continued.

The news station put a clearer image of the man's digitized face up on the screen for the viewers' benefit. Ryan squinted at the man's face. He didn't look like anyone they'd interviewed in relation to the murder of the prostitutes. Had Natalia caught a break in the case?

He snorted when the members of the press bombarded Natalia with questions and she coolly deflected them. "Come on, people," he muttered at the TV. "What part of 'no details during an active investigation' don't you understand?"

He continued watching the press conference. He wished he was there at the lab, working to bring this murderer to justice alongside Natalia and the rest of the team. But as another violent coughing fit erupted from deep within his chest, sending waves of pain shooting up and down his whole body, he knew it was more important to get better and regain his strength first.

Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he was no good to anybody in this condition.

**-()-**

Simon sat at the bar, gripping his pint of Guinness as if it were the only thing tying him to this world. The bar around him was a blurry dimness, out of focus both because of his recent consumption of multiple drinks and also because of the thick film of tears swimming before his eyes.

So much blood... her body... it was so heavy... cold...

Simon gulped down another swig of the bitter black liquid. He sniffed wetly, fighting to keep the tears from falling. He hadn't wanted to kill her, but he couldn't stop himself after he found out...

She wasn't the one.

He _had _to find her, the right one. The one who could finally end his pain. End his thirst. End this colossal agony that tore through his mind, body and soul every single day.

He could still see their blood on his hands. It soaked into his skin, poisoning him.

He glanced up at the television behind the bar and nearly choked on his beer.

His face was on the screen.

Simon blinked hard, trying to clear his vision of tears and alcohol. It was his face all right. Weirdly distorted, but him nonetheless. He quickly looked around the bar to see if anyone else was seeing this. There was only one other patron in the bar at this time of day, but he wasn't paying attention to anything but his Jack Daniels. And the bartender was busy with some sort of paperwork over in the corner.

Simon looked back up at the TV. The news banner along the bottom of the screen read "Miami police seek murder suspect." He had no idea where they'd gotten a picture of him, even one so oddly distorted as this one. Had there been a witness? He'd been very careful about avoiding the security cameras both times he had been near one. Someone must of seen him...

The screen flashed back to the video of a pretty woman addressing the press from behind a makeshift podium in front of the police station. Her mouth was moving, but he couldn't hear what she was saying since the volume was so low. A bar beneath her on the screen suddenly appeared. It said "CSI Natalia Boa Vista."

Simon quickly gulped the rest of his beer and slapped a twenty down on the counter. He hurried toward the exit before someone saw him and recognized him from the news.

He had to do something about these cops that were after him. His mind raced with panic. He was in deep trouble here if he didn't find a way to stop their hunt. He couldn't go to prison, he just couldn't. He wouldn't last a day in there.

His heart pounded with anxiety as he hastened toward his car. He had to find something to help him head off the investigation.

Or someone.

* * *

**Author's Note: **In Ryan's words, oh snap! lol What does Simon mean by some_one_ to help him? Who's he after? I'll give you three guesses, but you're only gonna need one, maybe two. ;) Today was a particularly crappy Tuesday. But working on this chapter for you all made me feel better :) So thanks for giving me something fun to do when life decides to not be so fun for a while! :D You're the best! I have the coolest readers ever! ;P


	10. A Home Visit and a Choice

**X**

The water was a cold, crushing blackness surrounding him on all sides. His chest was on fire from holding his breath. He tried to swim to the surface, but his arms and legs just wouldn't move. His head pounded thickly as the last of his air was spent.

He was drowning.

Dying.

A loud gong-like sound startled Ryan out of restless sleep. The full force of his illness hit him like an iron punch to the stomach. He groaned and curled into a tighter ball on the couch.

His doorbell rang a second time, followed by several sharp knocks on the door.

"Go away," Ryan muttered to himself, closing his eyes to try to go back to sleep.

All was silent for a few moments, then his cell phone began ringing. Ryan sighed and picked it up without opening his eyes.

"Hello?" he said groggily.

"Hey, it's Natalia. Open up!"

"Oh, so _you're _the one who's knocking down my door. You woke me up, you know," he said drily.

"I'm hardly knocking it down," she shot back. "Now come let me in!"

"Only if you brought a cure for the flu," he grumbled.

"Wish granted!" she replied playfully.

Despite himself, Ryan chuckled slightly as he hung up the phone and painstakingly dragged himself off the couch. He limped to the front door, his legs shaky and weak. He unlocked it and opened it to find Natalia grinning broadly on his doorstep.

Her smile vanished as her jaw dropped and her eyes widened when she saw him. "Whoa."

Ryan made a face at her. "I look worse than I feel," he said defensively.

"Liar."

He snorted. "So what miracle cure did you bring me?"

She held up a styrofoam container with a flourish. "I made you chicken noodle soup!"

Ryan took the container from her and looked back at her doubtfully. "You _made _me soup?"

"Uh-huh."

He raised an eyebrow at her.

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, okay, I bought it. I got it from Cleary's on my way here."

"Who's the liar now?" he said wickedly.

She ignored him, brushing past him to enter the house. He closed the door behind her as she set her purse on the table by the door, looking around.

"Wow," she remarked. "Only you would be _this_ sick and still keep your apartment _this_ clean. When I'm sick, there's used tissues everywhere, a couple bottles of cold medicine, cough drop wrappers scattered all around and... are you watching 'All My Children'?"

Ryan glanced at the TV and shrugged. "There's not much on during the day," he muttered. "It was either soap operas or infomercials."

She laughed.

"I saw your press conference," he said, walking back over toward the couch. Standing up this much was starting to wear on him.

Natalia made a face.

"Was that about my case?" he asked, sitting down. "Where'd you get the picture?"

She looked sad as she sat down next to him on the couch. "Yeah, your guy killed another prostitute last night. We caught his reflection in one of the security tapes from when he dumped her body this morning."

Ryan rubbed his eyes in exasperation. "I should've had this guy a week ago," he mumbled.

She put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "It's not your fault, Ryan," she told him seriously.

He just sighed and didn't say anything in reply.

Natalia looked her friend over closely. He looked a hundred times more terrible than he had yesterday in the locker room. He was sweating bullets even though his home was cool. His eyes were red, as was the sensitive skin around them. His skin was pale and tinged slightly blue. She could tell he was trying to hide the shivering from her, but she could see it even through his sweatshirt.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" she asked quietly.

He gave her a half-smile. "Is that a trick question?"

"Have you taken your temperature lately?"

"It's just the flu, Natalia," he insisted. "I'll be fine."

"Do you have a thermometer?"

He looked as if he wanted to protest, but the steely look in her eye told him he was not going to win this one. "Upstairs bathroom, behind the mirror on the right."

She left him to walk upstairs. She couldn't help but smile when she saw the state of his bathroom: pristine. It was oddly comforting to see that his OCD was at least alive and well. She figured she would know something was horribly wrong once that went out the window.

Natalia found the thermometer exactly where he said it was and brought it back downstairs. Ryan had laid back down on the couch and was resting there with his eyes closed. He looked thoroughly exhausted.

She sat on the edge of the couch and held the thermometer up in front of him. "Open up," she ordered.

He sighed in annoyance, but nevertheless took it from her and slipped it under his tongue.

"You really shouldn't be wearing such warm clothes," she told him concernedly. "The fever only makes you feel cold, but all you're doing is making it even harder for your body to cool down."

He looked at her dully and shrugged.

"At least take the socks off and don't put a blanket over yourself," she said crossly.

He saluted her half-heartedly, reluctantly kicking off his socks. She felt a deeper twinge of concern that someone as meticulously neat as Ryan would just leave his socks on the floor like that. He must really be feeling even more awful than he was letting on.

"All right, let's see," she said, leaning forward to take the thermometer out of his mouth. She held it up to the light so she could read it.

Her frown deepened as the spark of concern in her eyes intensified. She looked at him gravely. "Ryan, your fever's up to 103. That's high even for the flu."

"I'll take a Tylenol," he mumbled.

"You need to see a doctor."

"How am I supposed to go see a doctor if I can barely stand let alone drive?"

"Call a cab, then," she said sourly, glaring at him.

He grinned at the ferocious look on her face.

"This isn't funny, Ryan," she insisted. "High fevers can be very dangerous. You need to see a doctor. If you don't, I'll send Tom to your house for a home visit."

He blanched at the threat. "You wouldn't."

"Watch me," she said, narrowing her eyes.

"Oh God, _anything_ but that," he pleaded sarcastically.

"_Please _go see a doctor?" she asked, more gently this time, all joking aside.

He looked at her, recognizing the genuine concern in her face and voice. He sighed. "All right, I'll make an appointment," he relented.

She seemed satisfied and got up to leave. "I have to get back to the lab now. Eat that soup, it always helps me when I'm sick. And I'll call you later, okay?"

"Thanks for stopping by," he said.

She smiled. "_Someone's _got to look after you."

**-()-**

Simon watched as the pretty woman from the television came out of the house, closed the door behind her and began walking to her car. He gnawed on his fingernails, sucking the blood that oozed out of the angry red sores that opened up beneath his teeth.

His hands shook violently and his breath hitched in his chest. He couldn't believe what he was thinking of doing.

He didn't even know this woman. He'd driven to the police station just to sit and wait for her to come out so he could follow her. She was just doing her job, but he was so desperate to stay out of jail, he knew he had to find a way to stop her from ever finding him. He needed something to persuade her to leave him alone.

The tears he'd been holding back fought their way out. He sat in the front seat of his car choking back sobs of fear and regret.

Regret for what he'd done. Regret for what he was about to do.

Either way, whichever he chose, he was scared. But he was also desperate. He'd originally planned to follow this woman, this CSI Boa Vista, until he could confront her in an out-of-the-way location, warn her to stay away from him.

But as he thought about it as he followed her from the lab to this house, he realized that his plan might not be good enough. He needed something more persuasive than just a warning.

That thing had presented itself when he'd watched her enter the house with that man, the one who must live there.

He watched as she got in her car and started the engine, his heart pounding painfully. He wondered who this man was that she'd come to visit. They seemed very close. The man looked very sick when he'd opened the door. It only made Simon wish harder that there was another way to save himself.

Who was this man? Her friend?

Brother?

Lover?

The woman was pulling away from the house. If he was going to go through with this, he had to act now. Simon shoved his fears deep into the pit of his stomach as he shifted his car from park to drive.

He looked at the house, knowing the man was still inside. Then he looked at the car slowly driving away from him down the street, most likely back toward the police station. His gaze darted back and forth between the house and the car, his mind racing.

Which one?

He lifted his foot off the brake, feeling his car begin to roll forward.

Which one should he choose?

The other car was steadily growing smaller as it continued down the street. Knowing he no longer had time to debate about this, that now was the time for action, Simon made a decision.

He chose which one to take.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I've been looking forward to writing this chapter ever since I first started planning this story out! :D Who did Simon decide to use? Will he go after Natalia in an attempt to stifle the investigation? Or will he go after Ryan to use as a hostage? FIND OUT NEXT TIME. ;)


	11. MIA

**XI**

"Hey, Calleigh? Have you seen Natalia lately?"

Calleigh looked up from her notes, all the way up to Walter. It was a long way up.

"She went to go visit Ryan during her lunch break," she told him. "Why?"

Walter suddenly had a mischevious look on his face. He looked at Calleigh with a meaningful half-smirk.

"Is there something goin' on there?" he asked impishly.

Calleigh grinned. "What do you mean?"

Walter shrugged innocently. "You know... Between Wolfe and Natalia."

She laughed. "Walter, they're just friends."

"I bet that's what you and Delko used to say," he retorted.

Calleigh glared at him, but still smiled despite herself. "That was different," she insisted. "Is there a reason why you're looking for Natalia or are you just looking for trouble?"

"Nothing, she's just not answering her phone."

Calleigh frowned and looked at her watch. "Her break was over forty-five minutes ago, she must be in the field."

"I don't think there've been any call-outs in the past couple hours," Walter remarked. "And I didn't think she'd gotten any new leads on her case yet."

Calleigh took out her cell phone and called Natalia. It didn't even ring, it just went straight to voicemail. She looked at Walter, concern starting to mount in the pit of her stomach. "Her phone's either dead or off, it's not even ringing."

"When was the last time Natalia ever turned off her phone or let it die?" he asked.

"Never," Calleigh answered, quickly selecting a new number.

It rang once. Twice. Three times.

"Come on, Ryan," she whispered into the phone. "Pick up."

She was about to give up on the fifth ring when there was a sudden click on the other end.

"Ryan?" she asked anxiously.

At first there was silence on the other end. Then there was the sound of someone coughing wetly, and then a barely familiar voice croaked into existence.

"...Hello?"

"Ryan? It's Calleigh."

"...Hey, Cal. What's up?" He sounded as though he'd just woken up.

"Hey, sorry to bother you," she said. "Is Natalia there?"

There was long pause on the other end. "Natalia? No, she left about an hour ago, said she was heading back to the lab..."

Calleigh glanced at Walter fearfully.

It was as if Ryan had seen her expression and picked up on it. "What's going on?" he asked.

"Call Natalia again and leave a message," Calleigh said to Walter quietly. He nodded and obeyed. Calleigh returned her attention to Ryan. "I don't know, we're having trouble reaching her. I'll call you back."

"Wait, Cal...," he protested, but she hung up.

Walter shook his head as he hung up his own phone. "Still nothing," he told her.

Calleigh took a steadying breath and then selected one final phone number and held the phone up to her ear.

"Horatio, it's Calleigh," she said. "I think we may have a situation."

**-()-**

Ryan dragged himself off the couch and staggered toward the front door, battling nausea and vertigo. How could Calleigh just drop a bomb on him like that and hang up? Was Natalia missing? He could tell by Calleigh's tone of voice that something was wrong.

Hell if he was going to stay in bed while his best friend could be in trouble.

Ryan shoved his feet into his running shoes, still wearing his Boston College hoodie and grey sweatpants. He snatched up his keys from the table next to the door with a trembling hand and walked outside.

As soon as he opened the door, he was met with a wave of humid air, but he still felt cold under his sweats as frigid chills zipped up and down his spine. Ryan stumbled toward his car and got in. For one frightening moment he realized what he was doing. He could barely walk and here he was about to drive? He wondered if he was overreacting just a little bit.

Ryan coughed into his sleeve and started the ignition. He would just drive slowly and if he ever felt dizzy again, he would pull over. He knew Natalia would never let him hear the end of it if he got himself into an accident just because he was dumb enough to drive in his condition.

He pulled away from the curb and began driving down the road. The movement of the car seemed magnified by a million. He almost felt seasick.

Ryan hadn't gotten five minutes from his house when he suddenly brought his car to a halt.

Natalia's car was sitting in front of a stop sign ahead of him. It wasn't running and there didn't seem to be anybody inside.

Ryan got out and slowly began walking toward her car, every nerve in his body buzzing. There was a large dent and black paint transfer on her rear bumper. The bottom seemed to drop out of his stomach.

Natalia had been in an accident. But she would've called the lab if she knew she was going to be late. A million horrible thoughts began swirling around his already fevered mind.

Was she hurt? Who hit her? Where was she? Where was the other driver? Why hadn't she called him to come help her? He was only just down the street after all...

Ryan looked around. He was in a quiet section of the neighborhood. No one was around. And then he spotted a small red smear on the driver's side rear door.

A tidal wave of nausea and panic crashed into him.

It was blood.

Ryan staggered away from the car, his breath coming in short gasps. He finally made it back to his own vehicle and fumbled for his cell phone, which he'd left in the cup holder up front.

"Dispatch, I need two units to Highwater Avenue, between numbers 246 and 248. Possible officer in distress, send CSI."

The phone practically fell out of his shaking hands as his legs turned to water beneath him. Ryan had to hold himself up against his car, gasping for air. His mind reeled in shock and anxiety.

Natalia was missing. What if she was hurt?

Had someone taken her?

The panic reared up inside his heart. His head throbbed ferociously. The world was spinning, he couldn't find a foothold, everything was going out of control.

Ryan practically dove toward the curb and proceeded to vomit into the grass.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Poor Ryan. No one messes with his girl!

First and foremost, I apologize for my most unkind absence. How utterly mean of me to leave you all for days with a cliffie like that! Shame on me :P. I'm okay and healthy and alive and all that jazz for those of you who were worried about me (how sweet of you!), I just had an insane weekend. I was literally out of the house from 8 in the morning to 11 at night every day since Friday. I barely had enough energy to sleep let alone write a decent chapter for you all ;P. Anyway, thank you so much for your patience. I will try to get back into the habit of updating at least every other day this week.

ONLY SIX DAYS LEFT TIL THE U.S. SEASON 9 PREMIERE!


	12. Hear Me

**XII**

Ryan sat on the curb about twenty feet behind Natalia's abandoned car, his knees drawn up to his chest and his face buried in his folded arms.

_Natalia_...

He could hear sirens approaching in the distance. Everything else was quiet. He felt utterly alone.

_Where is she? Who took her?_

A Hummer and two patrol cars came into view around the distant corner. Ryan's mind wheeled from anxious thought to anxious thought.

_What if she's hurt? Is that her blood on the car? She must be so scared..._

_If she's even still alive._

Another violent wave of nausea erupted in the pit of his stomach at the thought. A low moan escaped him as he fought to shove the burning feeling of vomit back down.

The cars pulled up and Calleigh stepped out of the Hummer. She looked around perplexedly for a moment, then finally spotted Ryan crouched on the curb. She hurried toward him.

"Set up a perimeter around the car and be prepared to divert traffic," she directed the patrol officers. They set about doing as she said.

Calleigh knelt down in front of Ryan and put a hand on his arm. He looked up at her dazedly, his bloodshot eyes haunted.

"Dispatch said you called it in," she said gently. "You look terrible, you should go back home and rest."

He looked at her defiantly. "I'm not going anywhere," he said stubbornly.

Calleigh sighed sympathetically, looking around the area. She suddenly noticed the small puddle of puke in the grass nearby.

"Ryan, you can't work like this," she told him firmly but kindly. "You're going to kill yourself."

He stood up shakily and resolutely began to walk away from her. "The only one I'm going to kill is whoever did this to Natalia," he muttered icily.

**-()-**

It was dark. It smelled musty and wet. Her head throbbed sharply.

_...Where am I?_

Natalia opened one bleary eye. The world seemed to rock underneath her. She assumed she had a concussion. She was lying on a rather smelly and lumpy bed. As she went to sit up slowly, she realized her hands were tied to the bedframe with rope. It was already beginning to chafe her skin.

Natalia swallowed a surge of panic.

_Stay calm, girl, _she urged herself. _You're gonna get through this._

She sat up gingerly and looked around. She was in a cramped bedroom, the only light coming from a flickering yellow lightbulb on the ceiling. The furnishings were minimal. The walls were stained with water damage. She heard some kind of buzzing through the walls, but everything else was quiet.

Natalia slowly began to sift through the shattered pieces of her memory of what happened.

She was driving back to the lab after visiting Ryan at home. She hadn't gotten very far. She stopped at a stop sign... and then someone rammed into her. She'd been so pissed off. She got out of the car to exchange information so they could file a police report. The man had looked strangely familiar. And then he'd grabbed her. She'd kicked and struggled and fought her hardest to get away from him, but he hit her over the head and she blacked out. And then she woke up here.

Natalia fought the tears as she looked around her tiny prison. Her heart was pounding painfully as she tried in vain to free herself from the ropes that bound her to the bed.

"HELP!" she screamed, starting to lose her cool. "Someone help me!"

The door suddenly swung open and the man who'd hit her came charging in, a wildly panicked look on his face. He had a gun.

"Shut up!" he hissed desperately, brandishing it in her face. He looked as if he'd been crying. "Don't do that."

Natalia gulped, all her attention focused solely on the metal barrel poised to end her life right then and there. Her throat had gone completely dry.

The man suddenly seemed to realize what he was doing and hurriedly tucked the gun into the back of his jeans. "I'm sorry," he said pleadingly. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

Natalia fought to keep her eyes dry as her whole body trembled. She had finally remembered where she knew this man from. The picture had been a little distorted, but there was no mistake. This was him.

The killer she was hunting.

"Where am I?" she asked, finding her voice again. "Who are you?"

The man put his hands to his head, as if horrified by what was happening. "I-I'm Sim-m-mon," he stuttered. He gasped. "I shouldn't have told you my name, shit...!"

A chill raced through her veins as she stifled a shudder. This guy was so weird. He didn't seem like the typical murderer. He was almost child-like.

"Where am I?" she repeated. "What do you want?"

Simon shook his head fervently. "You're safe, just chill until I figure this out, okay?" he cried. "And don't go yelling anymore, or I'll... I'll come in here and... and hit you or something."

With that, he practically dove out of the room and shut the door behind him. Natalia saw a flash of sunlight before it closed and she heard him turning the lock.

Her chin quivered. Finally she couldn't hold it back anymore. Natalia drew her knees up to her chest and sobbed as quietly as she could. The position was awkward with her hands tied, but she barely noticed.

She was frightened, more scared than she'd been in a very long time.

"Please," she whispered into her knees. She didn't know if she was talking to herself or to God, or really to anyone who would listen.

"Help me."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Hang in there, Nat! Help is on the way! ...Or is it? ;) Stay tuned for more. Review please? It would make me so happy. And as we all know... happy writers are fast updaters! ;D

Title chapter inspired by the song "Hear Me" by Kelly Clarkson. It's a pretty good tune, you should check it out. And it's actually fairly appropriate for this point of the story :P


	13. Blood and Guilt

**XIII**

Ryan watched as Valera prepared the blood sample from Natalia's car for DNA comparison. As angry as he was at the moment, desperate to move things along as fast as possible, he felt deep sympathy for Valera.

Her normally rock-steady hands were faintly trembling. Her cheerful demeanor had been replaced by a sullen fear, tears precariously on the verge of spilling down her face. She hadn't spoken a word to Ryan since he'd hand-carried the sample from the scene to the lab, which he'd done despite Calleigh's most ardent protests. Valera had simply taken the swab from him and instantly got to work.

Ryan was sad for her. He knew she was just as close to Natalia as he was. He knew Valera looked up to her like a big sister. She was just as desperate to get Natalia back as he was.

Valera deposited the sample into a test tube and hurriedly placed it in the centerfuge and pressed the start button. She stood leaning on the glass table anxiously, tapping her foot and trying inconspicuously to dab her watery eyes without him noticing.

Ryan hesitantly put a hand on her arm. She refused to meet his eyes, and he got the feeling that the simple compassionate touch had caused even more tears to build up.

"We'll find her, Valera," he said quietly. "She's gonna be okay."

Valera sighed slightly. "How can you be so sure?" she whispered.

Ryan didn't know what to say. He didn't have an answer.

Valera sniffed wetly. "I always knew when she left the lab to be a CSI... there was always a chance... something like this would happen..."

Ryan held back a cough. He'd been desperately trying to hide just how sick he was ever since he'd called in Natalia's abandoned car. When he'd gotten back to the lab, he'd dropped the blood off at DNA and then went straight to his locker, where he kept a spare pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He was grateful for the air conditioning, as it kept his profusely feverish sweating to a minimum. If he ever couldn't hold in a cough, he made sure no one was around. The last thing he wanted was to either be sent home or put on desk duty.

Natalia needed him.

The centerfuge beeped, indicating the DNA of the blood sample was isolated and ready for comparison. Valera looked at Ryan with a mixture of fear and sorrow in her eyes. He met her gaze and clenched his jaw.

"Run it against department personnel, please," he said quietly.

Valera swallowed, then typed in the required database. There was a beep and a whooshing sound as the computer scanned through all the department profiles.

Ryan's heart sank as another beep rang out. A match had been found.

"Excuse me," Valera gasped thickly, practically running from the DNA lab with her hand over her mouth, making straight for the ladies' bathroom.

Ryan stepped in front of the screen, feeling a rush of nausea flipflop in his stomach when he saw the face pictured there.

Natalia looked pretty, content in her department ID photo. Her smile was nice. Ryan closed his eyes and rubbed them tiredly.

At that moment, he would have given anything to trade places with her.

"Mr. Wolfe."

Ryan looked up to see Horatio standing at the entrance to the DNA lab.

"What do we have?" Horatio asked quietly.

"The blood we collected from Natalia's car is hers," Ryan said heavily.

"How much blood was at the scene?"

"Just a smear on the driver's side rear door," Ryan answered.

There was a pause.

"Then there's a good chance she's still alive," Horatio pointed out calmly.

Ryan nodded, but didn't say anything in reply.

There was another long stretch of silence.

"Mr. Wolfe, you should go home and rest."

Ryan looked at him, practically offended that Horatio would even suggest something so ridiculous. "I don't need to rest, I need to help find Natalia," he said hotly.

Horatio's eyes were sympathetic but his face was firm. "At the very least, you could contaminate evidence in your condition. I heard you coughing in the locker room. Have you seen a doctor?"

Ryan's head was starting to throb as his temper reached a breaking point. "I don't need a doctor either!" he cried. "I won't contaminate anything and I'm not leaving!"

Horatio silently gazed at him knowingly. Ryan looked at the ground, immediately feeling bad for taking his frustration out on Horatio. He was only looking out for him, after all.

"Ryan, this isn't your fault."

The statement was quiet, but it took Ryan completely by surprise. He looked up at Horatio, completely taken aback. The older man just looked at him placidly, his blue eyes piercing.

But deep in his heart, Ryan knew he was feeling guilty about Natalia. It had been her day off, she had to come cover _him _just because he couldn't handle a little bout of the flu. He was disgusted with his own weakness, which had led to his best friend being in his place. And that had gotten her kidnapped, even killed for all he knew. If she hadn't been visiting him like the sweetheart she was, she wouldn't have been at that stop sign where she was taken. She would have been safe at home enjoying a well-deserved break.

It _was_ his fault. Nothing that Horatio could say would ever change that.

* * *

**Author's Note: **It's not your fault, Ryan! :( Oh dear, will our boy find his girl before it's too late? I certainly hope so! Stay tuned for more soon. How's everybody doing? Life treating you all okay?


	14. Knock and Talk

**XIV**

Eric sighed quietly in exasperation.

"Yeah, I hear ya," Frank muttered darkly.

They were walking up to what would soon be the fourth door they'd knocked on so far, looking for any witnesses to Natalia's abduction. Not a single person had answered yet.

"No one's ever home during the week in these suburban developments," Eric remarked annoyedly. "We'll be lucky to find anyone at home let alone someone who actually saw what happened."

They stepped up to the door. Frank rapped hard on it five times.

Movement on the other side of the window caught Eric's eye. It was over before he could see it, but he could have sworn someone had just ducked out of sight.

Frank knocked again. Eric watched for any more movement, but there was none this time.

Frank turned to look at him. "No one's here either," he grumbled.

"Hold up a minute, Frank," Eric said quietly.

He reached out to knock on the window and pressed his badge against the glass. "Miami-Dade PD! Open the door, please!"

Silence.

"Delko..." Frank began.

"Open up right now, or we'll kick in the door!" Eric called.

"We will?" Frank muttered dryly.

The door was suddenly yanked open. A teenage girl stood there with an angry look on her face. She looked flustered, her stringy brown hair mussed up along with her t-shirt and jeans.

"Oh my God, what?" she demanded sourly. "You can't just go kicking in people's doors!"

"Yeah, we know," Eric said mildly. "What's your name?"

She scowled at him. "Renee."

"Shouldn't you be in school, Renee?" Frank asked waspishly.

"I stayed home sick," she retorted.

"Playing hooky, more like," Frank muttered.

"Look, Renee," Eric said. "We're looking for information on something that happened down the street about two hours ago. You help us and we won't tell your parents that you ditched school. Deal?"

She rolled her eyes, but nodded. "What makes you think I know anything?"

"A CSI was kidnapped at the stop sign down the street. Did you see anything?" he asked.

She didn't look completely surprised or confused, but rather thoughtful. Eric's heart skipped a beat: did this kid see something?

"What time was this?" she asked, chewing on her bottom lip.

"Between 1 and 1:30," Frank answered.

She nodded slowly, her brow furrowed in concentration. "Yeah... I was watching a movie on TV. It started at 1. I thought I heard a girl yell."

Eric and Frank glanced at each other. They hadn't mentioned that the missing CSI was a woman. This girl was really remembering something, not just making up what she thought they wanted to hear to get out of trouble.

"I looked out the window, but I didn't see anyone," she said. "Figured it was just the TV."

"Can you think of anything else that might help us?" Eric pressed. "The clock is ticking here."

Renee looked up at him, her smartass facade melting away. Her eyes were sad. "She's a friend of yours, huh? The missing girl?"

Eric hesitated, his thoughts clicking to Natalia. "Yeah, she is."

Renee sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Let me think... Oh, I saw a car drive by my house a couple minutes after I heard the yell."

"Which way was it going?" Frank asked.

Renee pointed northward down the street, away from where the stop sign was.

"What kind of car was it?" Eric inquired.

"Um... big, like a truck but not a pick-up... dark green, kind of banged up and rusty... I didn't see the brand symbol on it and I don't know anything about cars," she said.

Frank was busily writing everything down. "Did you see anything else, the driver maybe? Anyone else in the car?"

Renee shook her head. "No, it was moving kind of fast and I wasn't really paying attention. But I do remember the first two letters of the license plate were B-S. Thought it was funny. That's all I remember, I went back to watching my movie."

Eric handed her his business card. "If you think of anything else, anything at all, I need you to call me. All right?"

She took it and looked up at him pleadingly. "_Please_ don't tell my parents I skipped? My mom would kill me."

"We'll let it slide this time," Eric told her. "But don't be doing it anymore, got it?"

She gave him a look as if to say_, Yeah right. Whatever_.

"Thanks for your help," Frank said, turning to go.

As Eric went to follow him, he heard a voice call out behind him.

"I hope you find your friend!" Renee said.

Eric looked at her for a moment, then nodded.

So did he.

* * *

**Author's Note: **SEASON 9 PREMIERE TONIGHT SEASON 9 PREMIERE TONIGHT SEASON 9 PREMIERE TONIGHT! OMG I'm going crazy with excitement here, people. I have brownies and milk and my friend's coming over to watch and the TV is all mine and I'm just so so so stoked! I'm wiggling like a puppy that has to pee. I can't imagine what it must be like for those of you in Europe who have to wait even longer. I might just die if that were me :(. My sincerest condolences. I will keep up with the updating to give you some semblance of a fix, and I hope it gets to you soon! As for my fellow Americans (at least those in the Midwest and East)... **_only two hours and nineteen minutes to go!_**


	15. Halfway Gone

**XV**

Calleigh watched as the tow truck slowly began lifting Natalia's car onto the flatbed. Her heart twisted with worry for her friend, wondering where she was, if she was holding it together all right...

Calleigh remembered how scared she'd been when she'd been abducted three years ago. She couldn't help wondering if she would survive the day as she was forced to help clean up two crime scenes. She'd been lucky.

Lucky to have her team behind her.

If not for them, she would probably be a missing person rotting in some unmarked grave today. They had understood her clues, had worked tirelessly to find her until they had. They saved her, Natalia included.

Now it was Calleigh's turn.

She sighed as she scanned the area yet again for any evidence whatsoever. There was barely anything to see; half the crime scene had driven away with Natalia and her captor.

Calleigh froze, staring at the pavement two inches in front of her toes. There were three liquid drops on the road, near where Natalia's rear tire had been. She squatted down slowly, unwrapping a swab and dipping it into one of the drops.

The white cotton came away red. Calleigh clenched her jaw.

More blood.

**-()-**

Eric stood outside the break room for a moment, watching quietly. Ryan was inside sitting on the couch. There was a cup of coffee on the table in front of him, but he looked as if he hadn't touched it or even wanted to. He was sitting there with his head in his hands, eyes closed. Eric could tell he was shaking slightly, fighting his hardest not to cough.

He looked terrible, as if he were about to pass out.

Eric sighed and shook his head slightly. Ryan could really be bull-headed sometimes. He must have been practically dying this morning to have called in sick in the first place. Eric could only imagine how much worse he must be feeling now, what with Natalia missing and all.

Eric had loved her once. He still cared for her, just not in the same way anymore. Especially ever since he and Calleigh got together. They had certainly grown apart over the years. But he knew that in that same time Ryan and Natalia had only gotten closer. Not romantically, but then again there were many ways to love someone.

He entered the room slowly and approached Ryan cautiously. Ever since Horatio had pretty much forbidden Ryan to be around any evidence that could possibly be contaminated by his germs, such as DNA or trace, the younger CSI looked ready to bite someone's head off.

Ryan looked up at him when he came closer, his expression a heartwrenching mix of agony, misery and fury.

"How you feeling, Wolfe?" Eric asked.

Ryan scowled. "I'd be a lot better if people stopped asking me that and let me _do _something."

Eric looked at him knowingly. "I got some aspirin in my locker if that would help."

Ryan shook his head and instead closed his eyes and went back to rubbing his temples exhaustedly. Eric had never seen anyone who looked so profoundly beaten.

"So," Eric began offhandedly. "Tripp and I found a girl who may have seen our kidnapper flee the scene. She got us a description of the car and a partial license plate."

Ryan looked up interestedly, a spark of his usual fire igniting in his deadened eyes.

Eric held out the file to him. Ryan looked at him confusedly, then hesitantly took it.

"I figured if all you have to do is run the plate and description, there's really not much for you to contaminate," Eric remarked lightly.

Ryan looked up at him in surprise.

Eric suppressed a grin, turning to leave the room.

"Unless whatever disease you have is effecting your reading skills, that is," he called sarcastically over his shoulder.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Chapter title is the name of the Lifehouse song that came up whilst I was publishing this :P. I figured "what the heck" lol. Besides, the story's about halfway over now ;P.

Take note, CBS! _This _is what I want: Eric and Ryan to be friends, not the bullying crap you've been giving us for five seasons. They don't even have to be best buds, Ryan's got Nat and Walter for that, but come on! They can butt heads all you want but Eric has to have some sort of regard for Ryan! You better do the good stuff that you say you're doing in season 9 when it comes to this! Haha, rant over. Sorry :P.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter, the next one is well on the way. And how awesome was the season premiere? More of that _please, _CBS! Review pretty please with sugar on top?


	16. You're a Child

**XVI**

Eric was walking by the DNA lab when he stopped. Calleigh was inside with Valera and seemed to be comforting the younger woman. Eric was about to keep walking when he saw that the centerfuge was on and running. Calleigh must have found something at the scene. Curious, he entered the lab.

The two women looked up at him when he came in. Both looked grimly worried. Valera looked as if she'd been crying.

"You find something?" he asked Calleigh.

She nodded. "I found more blood at the scene in the form of gravitational droplets. We're running them now."

The machine beeped. Valera automatically typed in the department personnel database for comparison. There was a few moments of silence before it made another noise. Valera frowned.

No match found.

"Unknown male," she read perplexedly. She looked up at them, bright-eyed. "You think Natalia got a piece of her attacker?"

"She definitely wouldn't go down without a fight," Eric said darkly, something in his heart swelling with grim pride. "Can you run that profile through CODIS?"

Valera obeyed. The three waited with bated breath as the computer scanned through all its files. When it beeped again, their hearts and faces all fell.

No match found.

"How is that possible?" Valera demanded, tears welling up in her eyes again. "How is this guy not in the system?"

"Kidnapping a cop?" Calleigh remarked. "Seems kind of high-profile for a first-timer..."

The computer beeped again. They all looked at it, confused. Then slowly their eyes all widened as they realized what they were reading. They looked at each other fearfully.

"DNA matches a reference sample from the serial murder case me and Ryan have been working on for weeks," Calleigh breathed. "Natalia just released an image of his face today to the media."

"Maybe he saw it and panicked, decided he needed to get rid of her," Eric said quietly.

"B-b-but this guy only k-killed prostitutes," Valera stuttered in horror. "Natalia's n-not his type, he wouldn't go after her..."

Eric and Calleigh glanced at each other, but wouldn't meet Valera's eyes. They both knew the odds of finding their friend alive let alone unharmed just dropped significantly.

There were a few minutes when none of them said anything.

"Someone should tell Wolfe," Eric said quietly. "He'd want to know."

Calleigh met his gaze again, her eyes concerned. They both knew that Ryan was already barely holding on when it came to to handling his emotions about this case. Information like this, as important as it was, would likely send him over the edge.

Neither were sure they were prepared to handle the furious rage that would surely ensue. They were worried that if Ryan got to this guy first, no way would both of them come out of that encounter alive.

Ryan would either kill him or die trying.

**-()-**

Natalia trembled slightly as she fought to stay calm. She looked around the room, trying to find any clue as to where she was. The world was still rocking beneath her, which was odd since her headache was very mild and she didn't think Simon had hit her so hard as to give a lasting concussion.

She looked at the nightstand next to the bed. There was a glass on it with just a little bit of water in the bottom. She could barely see it, so she squinted. The water was moving along with the rocking motions she was feeling.

Her stomach did a somersault. She was on a boat.

_That's a start_, she thought to herself, fighting to sound optimistic to herself.

The door suddenly slammed open again, making her jump. Simon walked in, his face red and blotchy as if he'd been crying. His eyes were dry now, though, and he seemed a lot calmer than before.

Natalia stared at him, absentmindedly beginning to curl herself into a defensive ball on the bed. The ropes tying her to the frame only let her recoil a few inches away from him.

He looked saddened by the fact that she was scared of him.

"Do you need to use the bathroom?" he asked quietly, almost gently.

She didn't, but she nodded anyway. Anything to get her off this bed.

Simon walked toward her. Her instincts clamored to scoot even farther away from him, but the ropes had reached their limit. Without meeting her eyes, he held out his hands to her. She hesitated, then reached her wrists forward so he could untie the knots around them. He did so gingerly.

He backed away so she could stand up. Natalia got up from the bed cautiously, her eyes never leaving him. She glanced at the door, desperately thinking she should make a break for it. He noticed her look and shook his head, reaching his hand around to the back of his pants where his gun was tucked.

Without taking his hand from his gun, he reached to his left and pulled open a door on the other side of the room as the bed. She saw a sink and a toilet within.

"Don't take too long," he warned her.

Natalia crept toward the tiny bathroom, skirting around him as much as possible. She ducked inside and immediately closed and locked the door behind her.

More tears began to well up in her eyes as she collapsed onto the toilet. She hid her face in her hands as she sought to quell her violent shaking. Her stomach churned with nausea, the stress starting to take its toll on her. She was so scared. She just wanted off this boat. She rubbed her wrists where the ropes had chafed her skin raw.

Natalia looked up at the small porthole on the wall. Cheerful sunlight filtered through it. The world was still out there somewhere.

She stood up and then climbed onto the toilet seat so she could look out the small window. There was no way to open it, not that she would even be able to fit through it if she could. She saw water and another boat about thirty feet in front of her. To the left, she could just barely see the end of a dock.

So she was in a harbor of some kind. That was something of a relief: at least she wasn't somewhere out in open water with this guy.

A knock on the door made her jump.

"Almost done?" came Simon's voice through the door.

"Just a second!" she squeaked, her voice choked. She cleared her throat and took a deep breath. She needed to find a way to get someone's attention outside. If she could do that, she might just make it out of here. But she had to be perfect. If Simon caught her, he might very well kill her.

Or worse.

Natalia stepped down from the toilet and pushed the lever to flush it, the noise hopefully disguising what she was really doing. She went to the sink and felt the water run over her hands, though it stung her wrists a little.

She didn't want to go back to that room. Her chin quivered and she wrapped her arms around herself, shivering.

Simon banged on the door. The noise made her jump. She closed her eyes as a single tear spilled down her cheek.

"Come out now!" Simon called, sounding much more stern than before. "Open the door or I'll break it down!"

As much as she wanted to stay away from him as long as possible, Natalia knew the smartest thing to do right now was to not make him mad. It made her sick to her stomach to think about having to do what he said, but there was nothing for it. She swallowed thickly and tried in vain to calm her quaking nerves. She _was _going to get through this.

Natalia unlocked the door and opened it slowly. Simon was standing right outside it, suddenly looking immensely relieved to see her. He smiled.

"There you are," he said cheerfully.

Natalia's stomach rolled over sickeningly.

Simon jerked his head back toward the bed. She suppressed a shudder and slowly made her way toward it, keeping one eye on him at all times.

She was about halfway there when Simon went to close the bathroom door.

"Wait!" she cried.

He looked at her, surprised.

Natalia swallowed, still trembling. "C-could you leave that open, please?" she whispered, her voice barely more than a squeak. "The light... i-it's nice."

He smiled at her oddly, then left the door open to walk toward her. She stumbled backward until she half-collapsed onto the bed. Simon picked up the loose ends of the rope still tied to the bedframe and moved to take her hands.

Natalia instinctively recoiled from his touch. A thunderous look flashed across his face and he grabbed her wrists roughly to tie her up again, ignoring her gasps of pain.

Tears danced in front of her eyes. As much as she wanted to hold them in, at least in front of him, she couldn't anymore. She was hurt. She was tired.

She was frightened.

"Are you going to kill me?" she whispered.

Simon looked thoughtful for a moment.

"I don't know yet."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Wow, long chapter! lol I had some extra time on my hands last night and this morning, thought I'd give you a little more than usual ;P. Chapter title was inspired by a line from a fantastic movie "Last King of Scotland." It's an incredibly scary film, both because it is very graphic and because it's based on actual events. It's about Idi Amin, the dictator of Uganda in the 70s. Anyway, there's a line near the end of the movie when James McAvoy's character says to Amin, "You're a _child_. And that's what makes you so f***ing scary." Thought it was appropriate in this context too.

Tangent aside, the next chapter coming up will be a great Natalia chapter, followed by what I think will be a great Ryan chapter. And from there, things will accelerate... ;) So hang in there, and thanks so much for bearing with me! You're all awesome!


	17. Flare of Hope

**XVII**

Natalia stared at the small circle of light across the room. She figured there was only about four or five more hours until the sun started going down. The thought of spending the night on this boat sent shivers running up and down her spine.

It was now or never.

She gazed desperately around the room, looking for anything that might help her. The door that Simon kept coming through, which she assumed led to the steering room and then the outside, was closed at the moment. She couldn't hear him. She didn't want to think about what he could possibly be doing out there, seeing as the boat was docked and he apparently had no intention of going anywhere.

The nightstand next to the bed had a drawer. Natalia reached toward it with her hands, but as hard as she pulled against the ropes, she couldn't reach it. She panted in exertion of trying to either pull the ropes off or reach the drawer, sweat starting to spring up on her forehead. She slowed down her breathing, forcing herself to think this through.

Finally she gingerly wriggled one of her shoes off, then pried the other off with her toes, leaving her feet bare. She repositioned herself, then reached out toward the drawer with her legs. It took her a few seconds, her knees clicking from the stretch, but finally she was able to grip her toes around the knob and pulled the drawer open.

She leaned forward to see what was inside.

Some rope bits, a pack of gum, a flashlight, a roll of duct tape, three fish hooks...

A flare gun.

Natalia had to bite back a cry of glee when she saw that last item. There was a reload flare in the drawer as well.

Natalia hurriedly reached out with her feet again, even more carefully this time. The way she was bending was a little harder than last time, but she gritted her teeth against the discomfort. Finally she had the gun pressed firmly between her feet. If she dropped it, she could be in even more trouble.

She carefully retracted her legs until she could grab the gun with her hands. She snagged the reload flare with her toes next, a much simpler task than the gun had been.

Natalia took a deep breath, her heart pounding. She stared at the porthole in the bathroom across the room. In her head, the math behind the flare's supposed trajectory, velocity and force rocketed across her brain like a ticker tape. She knew her math was right. It had to be.

Missing was not an option.

Natalia breathed deep again, quelling the terror in her heart that was making her hands shake. Her fingers fumbled with the heavy plastic of the gun, clicking open the chamber to see that there was indeed already a flare loaded. She placed the reload in her lap for quick and easy access.

Natalia held up the gun and aimed at the porthole. She held her aim steady, her target the small circle of light that could very well hold the key to her freedom. If she could just break it, that would hopefully attract the attention of someone outside, maybe even hit the next boat over if it had enough momentum. She said a tiny prayer in her head.

She pulled the trigger.

A few things happened all at once. There was a loud bang as the flare exploded from the gun to rocket across the room and smash straight into the glass of the porthole. The glass didn't break, but deep cracks spider-webbed across the surface. There was a crash outside the door as well as a man's bellow.

Natalia's heart felt as if it were vibrating more than beating as she hurried to reload the flare gun, cursing furiously under her breath. She could hear Simon's heavy footsteps approaching the door.

She inserted the new flare and shut the cartridge just as Simon burst through the door. He lunged at her with a bellow, tackling her on the bed before she could get a second shot off. He grappled with her, trying to wrest the gun from her grasp. She fought him tooth and nail, but the ropes tying her hands hindered her greatly.

Simon finally got his left hand fastened around her right wrist, which clutched the gun, flattening it against the bed. He was straddling her, his weight pressing down on her chest painfully. And then he gripped his right hand around her throat and pressed as hard as he could.

Lights exploded in front of Natalia's eyes as she fought for air, but she could feel the pressure mounting in her head. She couldn't breathe, he was too strong for her...

The edges of her vision were growing blurry, her thoughts becoming increasingly fuzzy. Her heart pounded at the pace of a runaway train, the terror mounting as everything but the basest of her instincts began to shut down...

Suddenly he stopped. He released his hold on her throat and sat up. He took the gun easily from her limp fingers and got off the bed, standing over her.

Natalia coughed harshly, gasping to refill her starved lungs. Her senses reeled and the world felt as if it were spinning out of control. Her eyes refused to focus; the only thing she could discern was a dark shape standing over her. Her dazed state only magnified the terror that pulsed through her veins.

Simon glared down at her as she fought to right her breathing. He was too angry to care about nearly suffocating her. How dare she try to hurt him like that? He was taking such good care of her! He was being so nice! Perhaps that was his mistake...

Simon raised his hand.

A million instincts came screeching back to Natalia from her long years of abuse. As soon as her basest senses caught the hint of that all too familiar motion, her body immediately jerked into motion without her mind's say-so. Before his strike even fell, she'd curled into a protective ball and ducked her face behind her arms.

The slap was still hard enough to make her yelp in pain, even though the brunt of the blow was laid upon where she'd thrown her arms up as a shield. Simon grabbed her tied wrists roughly and yanked them away from her face, leaning in uncomfortably close until they were nearly nose to nose.

"That was stupid," he snarled, baring his teeth savagely. "Don't do it again."

Natalia made no reply, merely counting the seconds until he'd would finally let go of her, tears swimming before her eyes.

He shoved her wrists out of his grasp and immediately turned on his heel and marched right out of the room, taking the flare gun with him. The door slamming behind him made her jump.

Natalia couldn't stop the sobs this time. They rattled hollowly in her chest as salty tears began pouring down her face without forseeable end. She curled herself into an even tighter ball on the lumpy mattress, covering her eyes with her hands, as if hoping that if she couldn't see what was happening to her, maybe it would stop being real.

Her thoughts seemed only capable of dwelling on the next time Simon would be back and what he would do to her then. Fear had already begun to consume her, any shred of hope of being rescued beginning to dwindle.

She had failed to catch anyone's attention outside. She had failed to break the glass. Even her last resort had failed, which had been using the backup flare to kill Simon, or to at least render him too injured to hurt her anymore. She had failed to protect herself.

She was beginning to listen to that little voice in the back of her mind, which had been whispering the whole time but she had as of yet ignored. It was the voice of reality, the one that didn't believe in knights in shining armor coming to the rescue at the last moment, didn't believe in happy endings or even hoping for the best in any situation.

False hope won't save anyone.

_I'm going to die here._

* * *

**Author's Note: **Oh dear, things aren't looking too good for Nat, are they? We shall see. And that awesome Ryan chapter is coming up next. Or at least I think it'll be good. There will be a reference to "Wolfe in Sheep's Clothing" in the next chapter, so keep your eyes open for that! Talk to you again soon, hope you're enjoying the story so far!


	18. When a Tornado Meets a Volcano

**XVIII**

Each tick of the second hand on his watch thudded through his brain painfully as if someone were beating him with a steel pipe.

Sweat poured down Ryan's face as he stared at the computer screen. The machine was searching the national DMV databases for any car with a license plate that started with the letters B and S, flagging those that were also green trucks.

There were a lot.

His stomach was doing somersaults, his muscles all on fire just from the effort of sitting up straight. He was shaking uncontrollably. But worst of all was breathing. He felt as if he were trying to breathe underwater. Water that was on fire or something.

Ryan coughed wetly, wincing as pain shot through his chest. He was so sick of being sick. Natalia needed him to find her! How was he supposed to be of use to anybody when he could barely breathe?

His thoughts shot to her. Where was she? Was she hurt? Calleigh and Eric had sat him down about an hour ago to tell him that the one who'd taken her was the killer he'd been chasing for weeks. He'd been so angry, his blood running with ice at the thought of what that monster might do to his best friend.

If he so much as hurt a hair on her head, Ryan would tear him to pieces with his bare hands.

Another coughing fit exploded from his throat. Ryan growled under his breath when it was over. He just wanted that to stop so he could focus. He glared at the screen, where letters, numbers and pictures were flashing across it dizzily. This was taking too long!

Ryan gritted his teeth in anger and stood up, ignoring a sickening wave of vertigo. He just wanted to find his friend! What the hell was so impossible about that? Was he the only one who cared around here? Didn't they understand the severity of the situation? This guy had murdered three women! Nothing was stopping him from doing the same to Natalia!

_And why the hell is it so cold in here?_

Without even realizing what he was doing, completely absorbed by his furious thoughts, Ryan found himself striding next door, where Eric was in a layout room going through Ryan and Calleigh's case reports about this guy. He yanked the door open and entered.

Eric looked up, surprised by the abruptness of his entry, but his face immediately melted into one of deep concern. Ryan was pale as a ghost, shaking violently and sweating profusely.

"Whoa, Wolfe...," he began but Ryan cut him off.

"Tell me you have _something_," Ryan barked, leaning heavily against the table. He coughed sharply into his sleeve.

"Ryan, you look like hell," Eric said, putting down the file he'd been reading and taking a hesitant step toward the younger man. "Go lie down in the break room or something for a while..."

"I don't need to rest, I need you to tell me you found something that will help us find Natalia!" Ryan yelled, beginning to completely lose a handle on his temper. A strange sort of roar was mounting in his ears.

"The best thing we got right now is that partial license plate," Eric told him, watching him closely. "How's that going?"

"It's nothing!" Ryan cried, tears inexplicably welling up in his eyes. "It's getting us nowhere! Do you have any idea how many cars there are in Florida let alone the country that match that description? And that's just assuming the guy didn't steal the plates and swap them on his truck!"

Eric was really frightened now. He and Ryan had certainly had their spats in the past, but something was horribly wrong here. Ryan's eyes were drifting in and out of focus and he looked as if he could barely hold himself up. His coughing was coming more frequently and more violently.

"Wolfe, you need to calm down," Eric said bracingly. "You're not yourself, man."

For a moment it looked as if Ryan would hit him. "Why is everyone so damn worried about _me_?" he roared, his eyes maddened. "Natalia's the one who could be dead any second! You don't know this guy, you haven't seen what he's capable of! I won't let Natalia end up like those other women!"

"We're all worried about her, Ryan," Eric said, his heart twinging at the implication that he didn't care. Of course he cared! "We all want her back safe. She's strong, she'll make it through this. You can bet she'll hang in there until we find her."

Ryan looked absoutely livid, but now a look of pain crossed his face. A tear spilled down his cheek. "You don't know what it's like!" he cried.

Eric was speechless. What the hell did _that_ mean?

Ryan pushed himself roughly from the table and staggered toward Eric.

"You don't know what it's like," he repeated. "You have no idea what it's like to not know where you are, how you got there, why this was happening to you, why someone was hurting you!"

Eric could only stare at Ryan, open-mouthed. _What the hell is he _talking _about_?

Ryan seemed to have completely lost all control over himself. "You don't know what it's like to not know if your friends will ever find you!" he bellowed. "Are they even looking for you? DO THEY EVEN CARE?"

The world seemed to drop out from beneath Ryan's feet. The roaring had reached a deafening volume as darkness swallowed his vision. His rapid heartbeat thundered in his ears for a moment, but everything was fading. His eyes rolled up in his head. He felt so light...

And then everything was gone.

Eric barely had time to lunge forward and grab Ryan as he fell. He wavered under his friend's dead weight, slowly lowering him to the ground.

"Help!" Eric yelled. "Someone help!"

Ryan wasn't moving at all, his face as white as paper. He was drenched in sweat, the fever-heat seeming to pulsate off of him. Eric hurriedly bent over him to check for a pulse and breathing. Ryan's heart was fluttering rapidly and his breathing was shallow and labored.

"Jesus, Wolfe," Eric muttered.

Eric's cries for help had summoned a few frightened onlookers. Before any of them had the chance to move forward to help, Horatio appeared in the doorway and shouldered his way in.

"Everyone stay back," he ordered, kneeling next to Ryan. "What happened, Eric?"

"He was upset about the case," Eric explained quickly. "He was going off on me about something and then just passed out."

Horatio looked at one of the younger lab techs peering fearfully into the room. "Mr. Chambers, I need you to run down to the M.E. building and bring Dr. Loman to the break room. I don't care what he's doing, you get him to come right now. Do you understand?"

The young man nodded grimly. "Yes, sir."

Horatio nodded back. "Good man. Go to it."

Chambers took off sprinting toward the stairs without a moment's delay. Horatio turned to address everyone else watching.

"He'll be all right, everyone," he said confidently. "You can go back to your work."

The techs and patrol officers that had amassed outside the layout room reluctantly went back to their tasks, many of them casting worried looks back at Ryan's still form on the ground.

Horatio bent down over Ryan as Eric watched concernedly next to him. Horatio gently felt Ryan's forehead with the back of his hand; it was scorching hot.

"He's burning up," Horatio remarked softly.

"I knew he was sicker than he's been letting on all day," Eric said bitterly.

"Mr. Wolfe, can you hear me?" Horatio called, patting the sides of Ryan's face in an attempt to coax him out of it. "Ryan?"

The younger man's face moved a little bit, his cracked lips parting slightly as if he were trying to mumble something.

"Wake up, Wolfe!" Eric said sharply.

"Come on, Ryan," Horatio coaxed quietly.

But Ryan didn't move any more, his eyes flitting restlessly behind his lids. Horatio looked at Eric grimly.

"Help me carry him to the break room," he said.

Eric nodded, but his eyes betrayed a flash of fear as he looked at his brother-in-law.

"H... If he keeps going like this, he's going to kill himself."

The older man's blue eyes were steely, but also showed deep care for both his sick CSI as well as the one that was still missing.

"Eric, we're not gonna let that happen."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Yes, that bit where Ryan's screaming at Eric is a reference to WISC. I wrote it under the assumption that Ryan never actually told anyone except H about what happened with the Russian. I mean, when someone tells you to "just get out" when you're trying to explain why you did what you did, that doesn't exactly give you much incentive to try again later, am I right? ::eyeroll::

Chapter title is a lyric from Eminem & Rihanna's "Love the Way You Lie." Neither the song nor the context of the lyric really pertain to the story, I just really love the imagery of the mixture of a tornado and a volcano. When I really get pissed off, like when I really let myself go, that's pretty much how I feel. Figured Ryan might too. :P

From now on, if all goes to plan, there should be both Ryan and Nat in every chapter. Will they ever find her? Keep coming back for more to find out! :D And of course if you feel that little impulse in your heart to leave a nice juicy review, please feel free to do so! ;P


	19. Make Up Your Mind

**XIX**

Natalia sat up abruptly when the door opened. Simon came in carrying a brown paper bag that was stained with grease on the bottom. He approached her hesitantly and sat on the edge of the bed farthest away from her.

A tantalizing scent was wafting from the bag. A low rumble sounded in the pit of Natalia's stomach, try as she might to quiet it.

Simon opened the bag and drew out something wrapped in white paper. He held it out to her. After a moment's hesitation, she took it from him. It was soft and warm.

"I got you a burger," he said quietly. "Thought you might be hungry."

Natalia swallowed thickly and started peeling back the white paper with shaky fingers. She stared at the burger for a couple seconds, reluctant to take a bite despite her hunger.

Simon noticed the look on her face. "Something wrong?" he asked concernedly. "You a vegetarian or something?"

Natalia shook her head. "Can I have something to drink?" she asked squeakily. Her voice was raspy from thirst and nearly being strangled not too long ago.

Simon nodded. "Sure. Bottled water okay?"

She nodded. He got up and left the room to fetch her a drink.

As soon as he'd left, Natalia hurriedly ripped open the rest of the wrapping on the burger and began examining every inch of it. She looked under each bun and between all the layers, looking for anything that looked out of place. She didn't see any powder or crushed up pills, didn't smell any strange liquids on the sandwich anywhere. Cautiously satisfied that he wasn't trying to drug her, Natalia took a bite and sighed in contentment. It tasted like the most wonderful thing she'd had in a long time.

Simon came back in and handed her a bottle of water. She hurriedly unscrewed the cap, hearing the tell-tale snap that it hadn't been opened before, and immediately drained half the bottle. Having something in her stomach again bolstered her spirits, so much so that she felt her courage slowly drain back into her.

She tried not to meet his eyes as she laid into the burger like a starving animal, fully aware that he was watching her creepily. She polished off the entire thing inside a minute. When she was done, she drained the rest of the water in a few swigs.

After a moment's hesitation, she handed the empty bottle back to him. He took it from her, but made no move to get off the bed, simply staring at the plastic bottle in his hands.

"Are you going to kill me?" Natalia suddenly asked, her voice at lot stronger than she expected it to come out.

He looked at her blankly but didn't answer.

"Are you going to let me go, then?" she demanded, her temper rising. She was getting really sick of the waiting game.

He seemed taken aback by her tone, but still didn't say anything.

"You're already in big trouble," she told him. "Kidnapping a cop is a big deal. Killing one is even worse. It's a mandatory death sentence in the state of Florida, you know that?"

Simon actually didn't seem to be too bothered by this news, which sent a chill shooting through her gut. A potent mixture of panic and fury was rising in her chest.

"Just make up your mind already!" she yelled, surprising even herself. Hot tears of rage poured down her cheeks. "Untie me and let me go! If you're gonna kill me, then just get on with it!"

He gazed at her with a strange look on his face. It was full of awe, she noticed as she stared back at him. And something else...

In his eyes...

Was that...

...Love?

* * *

**Author's Note: **OMG CREEPER. :P So I know I said last time I would have Ryan and Nat in every chapter... Sorry :( I decided I'd rather split up the bigger chapters and get you updates more often rather than making you wait an extra day :/ But there will be a Ryan chapter next! What the heck happened to him? Just how sick IS he? Find out next time! Thanks for all the love, review pretty please?


	20. You Can't Make Me

**XX**

_...Ryan..._

The voice was familiar, but he could barely make it out, as if he were hearing it through a very thick wall. His body ached all over even in his sleep, his skin feeling like molten metal being plunged into a bucket of ice water over and over.

"Ryan."

His eyelids peeped open. Tom's face was hovering in front of him, a worried expression replacing his usual jovial one. He was pressing a cold pack to Ryan's forehead.

Ryan's eyes opened a little wider. He realized he was lying on the couch in the break room. Horatio and Eric were standing not too far behind Tom, watching concernedly. With a sinking feeling in his stomach, he remembered what happened.

"Welcome back," Tom said, taking the cold pack from Ryan's head.

Ryan moved to sit up, but was immediately restrained by Tom's hand on his shoulder.

"Take it easy," he told him. "The ambulance is on its way, just lie down for now."

Ryan's mind was muddled. It took him a few seconds to completely grasp what the doctor had said. He furrowed his brow in confusion.

"Ambulance?" he muttered. "I don't want to go to the hospital..."

"Mr. Wolfe, you need to get checked out," Horatio said sternly. "You passed out, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember," Ryan grumbled waspishly.

"You have to take care of yourself, Wolfe," Eric pressed. "You're gonna kill yourself at this rate!"

Ryan ignored Tom's protests and sat up, glaring at the three of them. He didn't have the time or patience to be mollycoddled, not when Natalia was still out there.

"You can't force me to go to the hospital!" he rumbled. "I'm clear, alert and oriented. Want me to prove it? My name is Ryan Wolfe. I'm at the Miami-Dade Crime Lab. It's Thursday. I have the flu and let my fever get a little out of control and I passed out, but I'm fine now. Satisfied?"

Tom glanced at Horatio worriedly. They both knew what Ryan said was true about not being able to force him, not when he was of sound mind. And he'd perfectly recited all the necessary information needed to determine that.

"Stop being such a bull-headed idiot and just go to the hospital!" Eric snarled.

Ryan glared at him. "No."

"Mr. Wolfe, I could have you relieved of duty...," Horatio pointed out delicately.

Ryan looked absolutely insulted at the thought. "Sure, you could. And then I would just be sitting in the lobby waiting for information. Or you could just let me get back to work and we'll find Natalia faster!"

There was a long, intense silence. Ryan's expression softened, and he sighed. He didn't mean to be so angry with these guys. He knew they were just worried about him. They were already worried about one friend today, they didn't want to have to worry about losing another.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "Look, I really do feel better. I just didn't drink enough water or something today. I'll fix that and stay off my feet and try to take it easier, okay? But please don't send me away. I have to _do _something, I'll go crazy at home or the hospital."

Horatio looked at the floor, completely familiar with the feeling Ryan was describing: the insufferable itch that came with not being allowed to do something for a friend. There was nothing worse.

Horatio sighed. "Check in with Dr. Loman every half-hour," he said sternly. "Keep an eye on your temperature. Keep drinking lots of water. And the minute you start feeling faint again, you _sit down_, got it? If this happens again you _will _go to the hospital."

Ryan nodded in relief. "You got it, H," he said, moving to leave the room.

Before he passed through the door, he turned to face the three of them. They all looked dreadfully worried.

"Guys, come on," he said lightly. "It's just the flu. I'm fine."

After he'd left, Tom turned to face the other two, his face grim.

"What do you think, doctor?" Horatio asked him.

"If that's simply a case of the flu, I'm a flying hippopotamus," Tom said dryly.

"Do you have any idea what it is?" Horatio inquired.

"I'd have to run tests to be sure," the M.E. answered. "But that fever worries me, Horatio. That's the most dangerous thing right now. It's probably what caused him to black out in the first place. That or that nasty hacking cough you told me about."

Horatio nodded. "Thank you for coming so quickly."

Tom made a face, turning to go. "Didn't have much of a choice. That tech you sent nearly threw me over his shoulder to drag me up here in the middle of an autopsy."

That left Horatio and Eric in the break room alone. There were a few moments of silence between them.

"Watch him, Eric," Horatio said quietly. "If he looks like he's getting worse, call me."

"We should have made him go to the hospital, H," Eric said.

"We can't force him to do anything."

"If we don't find Natalia soon, we might just lose both of them," Eric muttered worriedly.

Horatio didn't answer. He had been thinking the exact same thing.

"H, can I ask you something?"

Horatio looked at his brother-in-law expectantly. Eric looked very concerned about something.

"When Wolfe was freaking out, he was yelling at me about something... but I didn't know what he meant," Eric explained. "He said something like... I didn't know what it was like to not know if your friends were looking for you when you're being hurt... or something. As if he'd been in Natalia's position before."

Horatio didn't say anything, simply looking at the floor.

"H, did something happen to Ryan?"

He didn't answer for a moment, remembering back to two years ago. "He never told you..."

Eric was scared now. "Tell me what? What happened?"

Horatio sighed. "I'm not sure it's my place to say... I'm sure he had a reason for not telling you..."

"Tell me!" Eric cried, his heart pounding. What the hell was going on here? "Please!"

Horatio hesitated, then sighed again. "Well... Do you remember a case two years ago? A broker was shot in his office and the killer ended up having ties to the Russian mob?"

Eric frowned, remembering. "Didn't the accomplice parachute off the roof or something?"

Horatio nodded. "That's the one."

Eric's frown deepened. "I remember Wolfe was acting weird all day and then it turned out he'd been withholding evidence from us that ended up nailing our killer..."

"Well, it turned out that the Russians had attempted to blackmail Ryan into covering up the crime for them."

Eric was horrified. "What?"

"They kidnapped his friend's son and used him as leverage."

"But what does that..."

"The night before we were called out, the Russians kidnapped Ryan and attempted to intimidate him into working for them. They kidnapped the boy after he still refused."

"But he never said anything...," Eric breathed, almost pleadingly.

"He couldn't risk them harming the boy," Horatio said sadly. "He never went into details with me, but I believe he was put through hell that night. He covered the marks well, but I believe they may have tortured him."

Eric stared at Horatio wide-eyed and open-mouthed. He stared into the distance, remembering back two years ago and trying to put together all the pieces of memory. "Calleigh said he was missing a tooth," he whispered finally. He looked at Horatio again. "Why didn't he tell us?"

"I don't know, Eric," Horatio said quietly. "He never asked for help when he was addicted to gambling either. He's just not the kind of person who asks for help with his problems, I guess."

Eric sighed heavily. "But everyone needs help sometimes."

Horatio nodded. "And whether he knows it or not, we'll always be here for him."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Yeah, right. I wish! :P I'm just kidding, they really haven't been THAT bad about helping him... have they? ::awkward silence:: ;P

We're coming down to it, folks! What's wrong with Ryan? Will they ever find Natalia? Stay tuned for more! I'm gonna be late for class 'cause I HAD to finish writing this haha but who cares! :D


	21. A Friend We Can Save

**XXI**

Calleigh stared at Natalia's car. She was completely alone in the garage and had been for hours.

There had to be _something_ here!

She'd gone over every inch of Natalia's car inside and out. There was no more blood to be found anywhere, which she had taken as a huge relief. It gave her hope that they were in fact looking for Natalia and not her body. She hadn't found any other biologicals of any kind, another relief.

But there wasn't anything else, either! Nothing that could give her any hints as to where the killer had taken her friend.

Calleigh knelt down on the ground with her UV light near the back end of the car. She closely analyzed the dent in Natalia's bumper where the killer had apparently crashed into her to force her to stop.

Calleigh froze.

There was one tiny fleck of blue fluorescing under her UV light. She leaned in closer to it. She turned off the light and looked at the dent with her naked eyes, but she didn't see anything. She turned it back on and gazed at the tiny speck, which lit up again under the blue light.

Calleigh hurriedly grabbed a swab and rubbed it against the dented surface of the car. Some sort of waxy substance came off.

She held the swab close up to her eyes.

Maybe this could finally point them in the right direction. Sometimes the tiniest, most insignificant piece of evidence could prove to be the casebreaker.

**-()-**

Walter was in the computer lab, having taken over for Ryan on the search for the kidnapper's car. He hadn't gotten any farther than his friend had. Walter sat staring at the flashing screen blankly, his head resting heavily on one hand. All he could do was sit and watch as the computer continued building their list of suspects. It seemed as if it would never end.

The door to the lab suddenly opened and Ryan walked in. Walter stared at his friend as he very calmly sat down beside him and began reading through some of the DMV profiles displayed on the screen.

There was a full minute of profound silence before Ryan finally turned to Walter.

"What?" he demanded.

"Oh, nothing," Walter quipped. "Just nice to see you're not dead or something."

Ryan rolled his eyes. "I'm fine, Walter."

"So I hear," he retorted dryly. "I understand you were particularly fine five minutes ago when you were passed out in the break room with Delko, Horatio and Doc Loman all hoverin' over you as if you were about to snuff it."

Ryan fought to tamp down his temper, especially since Walter was probably the only person even remotely as close to Natalia as he was. He just wanted to focus on their task at hand of finding her as soon as possible.

"Dude, I'm not about to die."

"Bet Jesse woulda said the same thing."

It was such a quiet remark, for a moment Ryan thought Walter hadn't even said it. He sat staring at the bigger man in stunned silence. Walter was gazing at the screen fixedly, obviously making a point of avoiding Ryan's eyes.

"Walter...," he began hesitantly, unsure of what to say.

Walter sighed heavily. "Look, I get it, man. You're worried about her. I am, too. You think it's easy for me to sit up here with no way to help Natalia but read a million DMV reports just hoping that one of them might match her kidnapper?"

Walter wasn't angry when he said it, but Ryan still couldn't find a single word to say in response.

"I might not be starting fights with my coworkers and completely abandoning all regard for my own personal health," Walter continued, still not meeting his eyes. "But I still can't help but think about Natalia and what she must be going through every single second that she's gone. Just maybe remember that you're not the only one who's going through a rough time right now, okay?"

Ryan wished his friend would just look at him. "Walter, I never thought I was the only one who cared about Natalia. I just can't stand it how people are fussing over me all day when she's the one in real danger!"

Walter's eyes were full of compassion and understanding, but they also betrayed a deep pain. Ryan could almost feel it when Walter made eye contact with him.

"Ryan, you're sick. Even though you might refuse to admit it, the rest of us can tell it's serious," Walter said, almost too calmly. "Just in case you didn't notice while you were unconscious, we're all really worried about you."

"That's what I'm talking about!" Ryan cried.

"And that's what _we're _talking about!" Walter exclaimed right back. "We lost Jesse, Ryan! He's _gone_! One minute he was fine and the next we're all waking up except for him. Nobody saw it coming, but it still happened anyway. And now Natalia's missing! Some bastard took her from us and for all we know, she might _never _be coming back! So tell me, Ryan, why _shouldn't _we worry about you, a friend that we might _actually_ be able to save this time?"

The ringing silence between them stretched onward, the only sounds coming from the beeping computer. Walter sighed and rubbed his temples, suddenly looking exhausted. Ryan looked down at his hands, which were faintly shaking in his lap. Walter's words chimed in his ears like a gong, each toll reverberating painfully in his chest.

They were excrutiatingly true.

"Walter...," he finally said quietly. "You're not gonna lose me. I'm not going anywhere."

His friend didn't say anything.

"Think of it this way," he continued lightly. "I promised Natalia I would go see a doctor and I'll do it as soon as we find her and bring her home. I'll be okay. All right?"

Walter didn't say anything for a moment. Then he looked at Ryan with a steely look in his eye.

"All right, man. But one more cough out of you and I'm dragging you to the hospital myself."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Sorry for the delay, friends. Hit a bit of a wall there for a while. WRITER'S BLOCK SUCKS SO HARD. :P

So what did Calleigh find on Natalia's car? Something tells me it'll end up being important... ;) And Ryan will totally start taking care of himself now that Walter's on his case.

...Right? ;P


	22. Never Again

**XXII**

Calleigh marched straight into the trace lab. Travers was bent over a microscope. She walked up to him and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hey, Travers," she said.

"Calleigh, what can I do for you?" he asked in his charming British accent.

"I have a swab from Natalia's car, there was some kind of waxy substance where the kidnapper smashed into it," she explained, forcing herself to keep calm. It had been a very long, crappy day and she was desperate for some good news about her friend.

Travers took the swab from her carefully. "I'll run it immediately," he said seriously. "I'll call you the moment anything comes up."

"I'll wait," she said quietly.

**-()-**

Eric watched Ryan through the corner of his eye. He'd joined Ryan and Walter in the computer lab shortly after his talk with Horatio, after he'd taken a short trip outside to think things over. He stood helping the other two men sift through the hundreds upon hundreds of DMV data profiles, tagging any that appeared suspicious.

If possible, Ryan was trying even harder to keep his illness hidden from the other two. Eric knew he was holding in coughs and was fighting to keep the shivering under control. He was still sweaty; Eric could practically feel the fever-heat radiating off of him.

He was tolerating so much, fighting everyone and everything that ever even remotely got in the way of finding his friend. He was putting everything on the line to help her, completely disregarding his own personal safety just for the chance of working toward her rescue.

_Suffering in silence..._

Eric glanced at his friend again. He couldn't help but think about what Horatio had told him.

Two years ago... the Russian mob... Kidnapping... Blackmail...

_Torture?_

Eric couldn't believe it, but he knew Horatio would never lie to him. Damn it, he _knew _Ryan had been acting weird that day! He made mistakes he had never made before, even as a rookie. And then he'd brought him the shell casing at the end of the day. Eric thought he'd kept it to make himself look like a hero or something, coming up with the casebreaker at the last minute...

_Extenuating circumstances_...

Eric mentally kicked himself. Ryan had tried to tell them. And Eric had told him to get out. A sick feeling washed through his stomach. He'd been too angry at the time to care, but the hurt in Ryan's eyes when he said that had been so obvious. But instead of pushing the matter, he'd simply walked away. Utterly alone.

Eric knew what it was like to feel the need to go things alone. After Speed died, he'd been very reluctant to let anyone in. He kept his friends distance and made it a point to avoid getting close to anyone, hell-bent on never feeling that kind of pain again.

And then Marisol got sick. He never let anyone help him take care of his sister. She was his responsibility, after all. He whole-heartedly believed it was no one else's business, even when it started affecting his work. And then Horatio stepped in...

As reluctant as he was to admit it, it had been really nice for some help for a change. It made him remember that even though losing someone he cared about was terrible, being alone was far worse.

Did Ryan know that?

Sometimes Eric wondered about him. Most of the time the younger guy seemed okay. He could laugh and joke with his teammates. He obviously enjoyed his work and was very good at it. But sometimes he would get this look in his eye... as if he were slowly retreating away from the people who wanted to help him. As if he were afraid of help.

Did he think it would make him weak? Did he just not trust anybody? Had something happened to him to make him like this?

Eric closed his eyes tiredly for a moment. Yeah, something had happened. He'd endured hell to save a little boy, and his friends had abandoned him before he could explain why!

Eric made a silent promise to the man standing next to him, hoping he could somehow hear it.

_Never again, Ryan._

Ryan suddenly noticed Eric watching him out of the corner of his eye.

"You know, Delko, I'm not about to drop dead," he said dryly.

Eric snorted, smirking. "Could've fooled me, Wolfe."

They went back to their work. Eric's vow rang in his ears, even though not a word of it had been spoken out loud.

_Never again._

* * *

**Author's Note: **Pfft. Yeah I wish :P. Although Eric seems to be doing a little better when it comes to Ryan lately. Hope they keep it up over there at CBS. They refuse to hire me, so they better step up their game if you ask me. ;)

Things are coming to a head in the next chapter. Poor Nat, I've been completely neglecting her! But neglect is much better than what's gonna go down in the next chapter... Stay tuned!


	23. The One

**Warning: This chapter contains bad, scary things. I was cringing and just completely uncomfortable the whole time writing it. I was seriously nauseous and almost crying 'cause I was just so distressed. Do you trust me? We'll soon see.**

**XXIII**

Natalia didn't like the way Simon was looking at her.

He hadn't moved from his seat at the edge of the bed, still gazing at her with that strange look in his eyes.

Suddenly he moved toward her, sliding quickly across the bed until he was right next to her. The movement startled her; she recoiled before remembering she was tied up. The ropes jerked against her wrists painfully.

Simon reached out toward her, as if to stroke her hair. Her stomach did a nauseating somersault.

"You're really beautiful," he whispered. His fingers shakingly touched a lock of her chocolate-colored hair. He lovingly pushed it behind her ear, exposing her neck.

Her heart started pounding wildly, panic rising once more in her chest.

He leaned forward and softly placed his lips on her skin.

"Stop it!" she cried, yanking herself away from him. The ropes grated against her already chafed skin, but she didn't care. The feeling of his warm breath against her neck had been sickening.

The look on Simon's face was one of confusion mixed with hurt. He moved closer to her on the bed. She had reached the ropes' extent, or else she would have scurried away from him farther.

He reached up once again, moving to touch her face.

Natalia jerked her head away from his outstretched fingers. "Don't touch me!" she snarled.

His face changed in an instant from one of intense love to one of enraged desire. She didn't have time to react when he suddenly launched himself at her, pushing her down against the bed.

His weight pressed down on her, too heavy for her to push him off or to wriggle out from under him. She felt her lungs compressed against her chest, her restrained arms clamped between herself and Simon.

And then his lips were once again locked onto her neck, kissing and sucking like one dying of thirst.

"GET OFF ME!" she shrieked, hitting and kicking any part of him she could reach.

He was too strong for her. He completely ignored her attempts to buck him off as his hand slipped from her face down to her chest. He took hold of her breast and began massaging it tenderly.

Natalia's efforts to wrestle him off of her were ten times renewed in vigor. Tears poured from her eyes as she cried and struggled, desperately trying to keep as much of him away from her as possible.

"Please! Stop!" she cried, but he didn't even seem to hear her. Sickening moans of desire were issuing forth from his throat as he continued to fondle her and kiss her neck even more arduously than before.

With a frigid jolt, Natalia realized there was nothing she could do to stop him from taking whatever he wanted of her.

Alone... tied up... no weapon...

She was powerless.

The hot tears of rage, humiliation and fear flowed unabated from her eyes. She didn't bother trying to disguise it from him. She didn't even bother trying to quiet her tortured whimper when his hand slid from her breast down to her hip. His fingers tremulously slipped between her flesh and her pants.

"_Please_," she whispered pleadingly, too scared to not beg. "I don't want to."

"It's okay," he murmured soothingly, his breath hot against her ear. His body rubbed against hers. "You're the one. I just know it."

Natalia closed her eyes against the horror. All she wanted was to be home. Safe. Off this boat! She would even be happy with somewhere other than home. The lab, the beach, the bottom of the damn ocean for all she cared, just away from _here_!

His other hand trailed down from her hair down to her shoulder. He pushed her shirt to the side, leaving her shoulder and part of her chest exposed. His kisses drifted from her neck down to her chest, just over her madly pounding heart.

"Just stop!" she sobbed. She screamed when he suddenly bit her just beneath her collarbone.

He looked up with a stony look on his face. He slapped her hard across the cheek.

"Shut up or I will kill you," he growled. Then he returned his attention to caressing every piece of her he could get at.

She could feel his slimy tongue sliding up and down her bare flesh.

She could feel his hand slide back out of her pants and began fumbling at his zipper...

Her panic reached an all new level.

Natalia turned her head to the side, still trying desperately to push him off. Her eyes found the floor. There was nothing there that could help her, just her shoes lying dejectedly where she'd kicked them off before.

Her heels.

Natalia desperately wriggled one of her arms out from under his crushing weight. She strained to reach her leg out toward the closest shoe, extending her toes until they creaked. Finally she latched onto the shoe. She began bending in the most uncomfortable way, trying to reach her hand with her foot.

Simon was too busy undoing his fly to notice what she was doing.

She grabbed the shoe in her hand, positioning it carefully.

And then she slammed the heel into his eye.

Simon bellowed wildly as she gouged at his eye as hard as she could with the sharp heel of the shoe. It didn't take him long to wrestle it from her grasp, howling in pain with one hand clasped over his red, bloodied eye.

He rolled off of her and the bed, landing with a crash on the floor. Natalia quickly pulled her shirt back to where it was, wiping his disgusting saliva from her skin and tucking herself back into a protective ball before he could even think to touch her again.

He scrambled to his feet and staggered toward the door. Leaning heavily against the frame, he pulled his gun out from the back of his pants and pointed it at her.

Natalia stared down the barrel of the weapon, shaking violently.

"You _bitch_!" he roared. "What the hell did you do that for?"

"Leave me alone!" she wailed.

"I should kill you for that!" He cocked the hammer back, his finger on the trigger.

Natalia was past her limit. She just didn't know what to do anymore. So she sat up, moved to the edge of the bed so her feet were flat against the floor, and stretched her tied hands out to him.

"Please...," she begged softly, tears still streaming down her face. "Just let me go."

Simon seemed moved by her plea. His face was torn between pity and anger, his eyes darting back and forth as he thought wildly.

"Please," she repeated.

Simon was shaking, the hand holding the gun jerking out of control with his uncertainty.

He didn't know what to do.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I'm gonna go throw up now. Stay tuned for more.

DAMN IT RYAN, WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?


	24. Shot in the Dark

**XXIV**

Calleigh's head shot up when the machine beeped. Travers typed something on the computer and read the screen hurriedly.

"The waxy substance you got off Natalia's car is a type of high-grade detergent," he read.

"Like laundry detergent?" Calleigh asked.

Travers typed some more on the computer, searching for the subtance's exact composition. "Not exactly," he said, his brow furrowed in concentration. "It's not the kind of soap they use on clothes, it's from a street cleaner."

"Well, Natalia has a driveway," Calleigh remarked. "And the street she was taken on doesn't get swept."

"Must have come from the kidnapper's car, then," he said. "And for this detergent to still be wet enough to be transferred when he ran into her, it must have been from this morning."

"I'll go look up which streets were cleaned this morning," Calleigh said excitedly. "Thanks, Travers!"

The computer beeped again.

"Wait, there's more!" Travers called before she made it out of the room. Calleigh hurried back to his side to read the computer screen over his shoulder.

"This particular detergent is a new environmentally friendly compound," he told her. "The EPA only just recently started implementing it in Miami."

Calleigh stared at him, her heartbeat quickening. "Do you have a list?"

Travers typed feverishly. A website popped up. He grinned and turned the screen toward her so she could read.

Calleigh gazed at the words on the page. She smiled excitedly at Travers, then turned and ran out of the room.

**-()-**

Eric, Ryan and Walter were all completely immersed in their work when the door suddenly burst open and Calleigh ran in. Her cheeks were flushed and there was a strange gleam in her eye.

"He has a boat!" she exclaimed.

The three men all stared at her.

"What?" Eric asked.

"Street-cleaner detergent was transferred from the kidnapper's car to Natalia's car," she explained breathlessly. "Travers found it's a type of safe cleaner that the EPA just started using in Miami. The only area that was swept this morning was Fisher Bay Marina. The only logical reason for him to be parked there when it was swept at 4:30 a.m. this morning is if he lives nearby. And the only listed residences anywhere near there are boats!"

"I'll cross-check all the driver's licenses with docking permits," Walter said, hurriedly typing.

The four of them stared at the screen, open-mouthed, waiting impatiently as the computer scrolled through their list of suspects...

Three licenses popped up on the screen. The four of them practically pushed each other out of the way to read the information.

"Only one of these guys sails out of Fisher Bay," Eric read loudly. "Simon Clovis. This picture even kind of looks like the one Natalia released to the media..."

Without a word, Ryan left the room at a run.

Calleigh and Walter watched him go apprehensively, hoping he wasn't going to do anything too rash. Eric took out his phone.

"I'll call H," he said. "He's out in the field, maybe he can head Wolfe off or at least meet him at the marina."

Calleigh looked at him questioningly.

"Either he's gonna need backup, or someone's gonna have to keep him from tearing this guy apart," he explained darkly.

**-()-**

Simon was shaking, the hand holding the gun jerking out of control with his uncertainty.

He didn't know what to do.

"Simon," Natalia whispered, tears streaming silently down her face. "I can help you. Whatever it is that makes you do these things, there are people that can help!"

He stared at her, completely shocked.

"But you have to put the gun down," she pleaded, reaching her tied hands out to him once more.

"I... I can't," he stammered. "Y-you'll leave m-me..."

"But I can only get you help if I leave first," she insisted.

Simon's eyes darted back and forth, still shaking. Her words pounded in his skull. His thoughts tumbled in and around each other, none of them making much sense except for one.

What should he do?

What should he...

_BANG_.

Simon nearly jumped out of his skin. With a jolt, he realized the deafening sound had come from the gun in his hand. He looked at Natalia.

She was bent over, clutching her side.

Blood leaked out between her fingers.

Simon gasped and dropped the gun. He staggered over to the bed. "Oh, my God!" he cried. "Oh, my God!"

"Just leave me alone!" she wailed, kicking at him and dragging herself away from the edge of the bed.

"I-I-I'm so s-sorry!" he stuttered, panic gripping him. "Oh, my God, you're bleeding... I'll go get towels or-or-or bandages or something!"

Simon immediately sprinted out the door and outside.

Natalia lay back on the bed, keeping her hands pressed to hole in her side that felt as if it were burning, throbbing, stabbing and aching all at once. She felt her own blood oozing out, soaking her palms.

She forced herself to keep breathing, although she could only manage short gasps through the pain. She felt so cold. One warm, salty tear leaked out of the corner of her eye and was lost in her hair. Tingling numbness began to seep upward from her feet.

"God...?" she whispered, staring at the ceiling, but the prayer died on her lips.

Natalia found herself too exhausted to cry, even to think, anymore. She was at the end of her rope.

And she knew if she didn't get to a hospital soon, she could be at the end of something else too.

* * *

**Author's Note: **BA-BAM! Oh snap. So they finally figured out where Nat is, but will it even make a difference now? Stay tuned!


	25. The Death Rule

**XXV**

Ryan sped along in the Hummer toward Fisher Bay Marina, barely noticing how fast he was going or how many other drivers he was pissing off by weaving in and out of them like a madman.

He didn't care. He just needed to get to Natalia.

And then maybe this whole nightmare would finally be over.

Ryan coughed thickly into his sleeve, a weird taste appearing in his mouth. He ignored it, just as he ignored the ever-increasing feeling of being out of breath. Just as he ignored the now profound chill that had settled beneath his skin, clinging to his very bones. Rescuing his best friend was all he could think about, all he could care about.

"All units be advised," came a woman's voice over the radio. "All units responding to the 207 at Fisher Bay Marina."

Ryan frowned, glancing down at the radio. The call was just issued, there shouldn't be any updates yet...

"We are at Code 11," the voice continued. "All units are ordered to keep to the perimeter until SWAT arrives."

"WHAT?" Ryan yelled. There wasn't _time _for that!

Ryan pressed even harder on the already floored gas pedal. He had to get there first.

Before anyone could stop him.

**-()-**

Natalia forced her eyes open.

It was slowly getting harder and harder to stay awake. The suffocating ache in her side was overwhelming. She tried to keep her hand clamped over it as hard as she could to help stem the bleeding, but her strength was quickly fading. The cold was beginning to seep into her core.

She forced herself to stare at the ceiling, clenching her jaw against the pain. Her vision was going fuzzy.

She knew she didn't have long.

One soft little tear leaked out of the corner of her eye, but it was no longer out of fear or anger or pain. She was too weak to feel such strong emotions anymore. Her addled mind couldn't quite name what she was feeling. It felt a little like...

Relief?

This would all be over soon. She could be at peace. She could be safe again. All she had to do was wait to fall asleep.

All she had to do was wait to die.

No one was coming.

Natalia wrestled her eyes open once more. _No_. _I refuse to let it end like this_. _I deserve better than this, God damn it!_

She forced her mind to think about the things in her life that were worth holding on for. Her sisters, Christine and Anya. They still needed some serious looking-after, especially Anya. Her parents. They had always worried about her so much, especially after she started working in criminal justice. They would be absolutely crushed if anything were to happen to her.

Her friends. Valera, Horatio, Walter, Calleigh, Eric, Frank, Travers, Tom, Dave, all the other cops and techs running around... None of them should have to handle losing one of their own again so soon.

Ryan.

Natalia's heart ached at the thought of her best friend. He would blame himself forever. She couldn't bear to think of him ever having to deal with that kind of pain. It would destroy him from the inside out. He struggled with enough self-loathing sometimes. She feared this would send him over the edge into that terrible place that few, if any, ever made it back from.

She just wanted to see him one more time. There were things to say to everyone in her life. She couldn't bear to leave like this. It simply wasn't fair.

_Is this what all murder victims think about? _she thought, her mind's eye replaying all the faces of people she'd sought justice for over the years. She supposed not all of them had time to think like this before they died. Most of their deaths were over in a heartbeat. Morbidly she wondered which was worse.

When death comes slowly, one had time to remember what they would be missing and who they were leaving behind without saying goodbye. But was that really a bad thing? Was it any worse than life being snuffed out too quickly for recognition?

She came to the conclusion that, as a rule, death pretty much just sucked in any capacity.

Natalia was no doctor. She didn't know just how bad the wound in her side was or how long she had until her lifeblood was spent. All she knew was that she had to hang on as long as possible.

Her eyelids flickered shut, feeling too heavy to keep open anymore. Her thoughts were growing fuzzier by the moment.

She just needed to rest for a moment...

**-()-**

Ryan shut off his lights and sirens before he got all the way to the marina. If Simon Clovis was there, he didn't want to alert him to his presence. He jumped out of the Hummer and drew his gun. Looking over his shoulder, he saw more cop cars as well as another Hummer speeding towards him. Ryan took off running toward the docks before anyone else could reach him.

He found the dock number he was looking for. He advanced cautiously down the wooden dock, reading the names of the boats.

_Carry On_.

Ryan's heart thudded painfully in his chest when he saw that name. This was it. This was Clovis' boat.

He wasn't a religious man, but Ryan suddenly felt the urge to pray as he quietly stepped off the dock onto the the deck of the boat.

All was silent.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Did Ryan really find the right boat? Is Natalia going to make it? ... Heck if I know. ;P More ASAP!


	26. Heaven Can't Have You

**XXVI**

Ryan's heart thudded against his ribs. He scoured every inch of the boat around him, his nerves buzzing as he searched for the tiniest hint of movement anywhere.

He found the door into what he guessed was the steering room or the cabin. He pressed himself against the door and strained his ears to detect any sounds coming from inside. There were none.

Keeping his gun firmly leveled, Ryan slowly tried the door. He found it unlocked, so he nudged it open. Inside was a tiny steering room, but there was no one there. There was another door on the far side of the room. He walked over to it and listened closely. Still no noise.

Ryan took as deep a breath as he could and let it out slow, stifling a cough.

He kicked the door open and dove inside.

The cabin was small and dim and barely furnished. There was a door on the left that opened into a small bathroom. There was a nightstand and a bed to the right.

Natalia was lying the bed, her eyes closed.

A tidal wave of emotion slammed into Ryan, threatening to knock him off his feet. Everything he'd been feeling all day seemed compounded a hundred times and magnified a hundred times more. A thick lump rose in his throat, tears of mingled exhaustion and relief pricking the back of his eyes.

"Natalia!" he exclaimed, fumbling to holster his gun and racing to her side.

But something was wrong. She remained utterly still. He looked her over, desperately looking for some sign.

Then he saw the blood.

Ice flooded into his veins.

"No," he whispered. "No, no, no, no, no..."

He hurried picked up her hand that was covering the wound, obviously her attempt to stop the bleeding. He gasped when he saw the gory bullet hole in her side, tears numbly welling up in his eyes.

He quickly placed two fingers to her neck, ignoring a wave of nausea upon seeing the thick purple bruises there, and bent down to listen for breathing. She was barely moving air, and her heartbeat was faint.

Ryan knelt on the ground, gently stroking Natalia's hair away from her face.

"Natalia?" he asked softly. "Can you hear me?"

His heart lept when she stirred ever so slightly.

"Wake up, Natalia," he said a little louder. "Please?"

Her eyelids peeped open. Two dazed slits of brown gazed at him confusedly.

"...Ryan?" Her voice was barely audible.

"Yeah," he answered. "It's me. It's Ryan."

"Am I... dreaming?"

"No, sweetheart," he said, his heart twisting. He hurriedly undid the knots in the rope that tied her to the bed. "I'm gonna get you out of here, just hang in there."

She watched him untie her bemusedly.

"Where we... going?" she whispered childishly. "...Heaven?"

Ryan swallowed thickly. She was in bad shape. He had to get her out of there and to an ambulance _now_. He took off his jacket and laid it over top of her, suddenly thankful for his fever that had made it extra-warm for her.

She gave him a weak smile. Her eyes closed again.

"Natalia, I need you to stay awake, okay?" Ryan said loudly, hurriedly checking her over for any more injuries. He wanted to be absolutely sure he wouldn't make it worse by moving her.

"Hey... Ryan? ...Did you ever... find me?"

He looked at her. She was gazing at him again, a thousand years worth of torment glinting in her eyes. His heart broke at the sight of it. He didn't know what exactly was going on in her mind, but he knew she was severely altered.

"Yeah, don't worry. I found you," he said softly, placing a gentle hand on her head and giving her a sad smile. "I found you."

"I knew you... would."

Ryan blinked back hot tears, clearing his throat. "I'm gonna get you out of here," he said. "This might hurt a little bit, but everything's gonna be okay now. Do you trust me?"

Natalia grinned dazedly. "I trust you."

"Okay. Here we go."

Ryan slid his arms underneath her and, as gently as he could, lifted her off the bed. She winced slightly at the movement, but she was too weak for much else.

He turned to walk out the door to the steering room.

"Just stay with me, Natalia," he urged her. "Everything's gonna be okay."

"...Promise?"

"I promise," he said, meaning it with all the broken pieces of his heart. "I'll get you home."

"...Home?" she whispered. "... To heaven?"

Ryan no longer had a free hand to keep the tears at bay. One trailed sluggishly down his cheek. He sniffed wetly. He couldn't bear the thought of finding his best friend only to lose her again right away.

_No, not heaven_, he wanted to say.

_Heaven can't have you yet_.

Natalia reached a hand up to grip his collar as he made it to the steering room and continued hastening toward the outside. Her hold was reassuringly strong. If possible, Ryan's resolve to save her hardened more than ever before. He stepped out into the sunlight and hurried down the dock. He saw a contingent of obedient police officers waiting behind a set perimeter. He also saw a certain disobedient redhead hurrying toward him.

_Hang on, Natalia_, he urged her silently.

"We need an ambulance right now!" he bellowed down the dock. There was one parked nearby. The paramedics grabbed their gear and began running toward him, wheeling a gurney.

Ryan looked down at the friend he held in his arms. She wasn't exactly awake, but he could tell she was hanging on with all her strength just as he had asked her to. She still held onto his shirt with one hand, the skin of her wrist raw and bleeding from where the rope had been.

She was going to survive. With God as his witness, Ryan was going to save her.

_Heaven can't have you yet._

* * *

**Author's Note: **Awww yay, he found her! ... But how much longer do they have together? And where the heck did Simon get to...? Find out next time!


	27. Hell Hath No Fury

**XXVII**

Ryan watched helplessly as the paramedics worked on Natalia, preparing to load her into the back of the ambulance. Horatio stood solidly by his side.

"She's lost a lot of blood, we need to roll," one of the paramedics said to the other.

"I'm gonna need you in the back with me, Steven," he answered.

"Good call, we'll get a cop to drive," Steven said.

"Eckhart!" Horatio called. A young police officer standing nearby ran up to him. "Drive the bus for them."

"Yes, sir!" The young officer quickly climbed into the driver's seat of the ambulance as the paramedics loaded Natalia into the back. Ryan took a step forward, making to climb in after them.

Steven put a hand up, his face sympathetic. "Sorry, officer, there's no more room back here."

Horatio put his hand on Ryan's shoulder. The younger CSI sighed and nodded.

The door to the ambulance closed and the vehicle took off, lights and sirens blaring. Ryan watched it go, part of his heart going with it.

It wasn't until the ambulance was out of sight around the corner that Horatio broke the silence.

"Good work, Mr. Wolfe," he said quietly.

Ryan barely heard him. He felt so strange. His heart was shakily rattling more than beating inside his chest. His stomach was fluttering nauseatingly. And his breath was coming in short gasps, that weird taste still coating his mouth. He felt delirious.

Horatio noticed. "_Now_ will you take it easy?" he asked drily.

Despite himself, Ryan grinned. "Not a chance," he answered lightly. "Ask me again after we find the guy."

Horatio smirked. "I'll do that."

Frank approached them, his face looking relieved but tense. "There's no sign of Simon Clovis, Horatio," he said. "We checked the racetrack where he works and they said he didn't come in today. And he doesn't seem to have any family in the area."

"We'll find him, Frank," Horatio said softly, an edge in his voice. "We'll find him."

"I'll send a bunch of uniforms out to search the area," Frank said gruffly. "I want this guy, Horatio."

"We'll get him," Ryan growled lowly.

"If we have to turn Miami upside down," Horatio finished.

Frank left to go organize the search teams, leaving Horatio with Ryan.

"I'll call Eric and Walter to come process the boat," Horatio said. "Mr. Wolfe, I need you to go to the hospital..."

Anger flared in Ryan's chest as he opened his mouth the protest. Not _this _again...

"...to get any evidence Natalia might have," Horatio finished quickly.

Ryan shut his mouth, his anger subsiding. He nodded grimly, relief washing over him. As much as he wanted to hunt Clovis down, he wanted to go to Natalia even more. She needed him more right now.

Ryan turned to leave. A small group of onlookers had gathered on the other side of the yellow tape. He froze.

Simon Clovis was standing right there. He was fearfully watching the scene before him, mingling with the crowd.

Ryan went cold. Every single muscle in his body tensed like a steel coil waiting to spring. The deepest, darkest hatred and fury he had ever felt in his entire life reared up inside him like some crazed, demonic beast.

Simon met Ryan's eyes. They stared at each other for a heartbeat, mutual recognition sparking in both of their gazes.

Simon bolted.

Like the crack of the whip, Ryan took off sprinting after him, hurtling toward the yellow-tape perimeter.

"MIAMI-DADE POLICE!" he bellowed. "STOP!"

The crowd scurried to get out of his way as he threw himself under the tape and raced after Simon. Horatio turned around at the sound of Ryan's yell and saw his CSI chasing someone.

"Frank!" he called sharply, then followed as fast as he could.

Ryan flew up the boardwalk as if the hounds of Hell itself were joining him in his chase. Their raucous baying and snarling seemed to chime through his ears, flooding his soul with fire. He'd never run so fast in his life.

The urge to kill pounded in his heart.

Simon was fast, his feet fueled by fear. But Ryan was gaining on him. He careened off the boardwalk toward a small park.

Ryan continued after him, all the while shortening the distance between him and Simon. His teeth were bared like an enraged, ravenous wolf bearing down on its prey.

Simon risked a glance behind him. The man he had seen that morning, the man Natalia had visited just before he took her, looked deranged. He'd never seen anything so scary in his entire life.

Ryan ignored the burning of his lungs and muscles. He ignored the sharp pain in his chest. He ignored the strange whooshing sensation in his abdomen. He ignored the splitting headache, the fizzling feeling in his brain.

Sirens exploded around them, cop cars beginning to circle the park to cut Simon off. He was trapped.

Ryan pounced, slamming his entire body into Simon's back. They fell. They rolled.

Ryan pinned Simon down and proceeded to punch and pummel every last inch of him he could reach.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" he roared, beating Simon again and again, despite the blood that was already pouring out of his nose and the cuts on his face. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?"

"Help!" Simon screamed, trying desperately to protect himself from Ryan's thunderous blows. "Someone help me!"

"I'LL KILL YOU, YOU BASTARD!" Ryan bellowed, ignoring a crack and a molten blast of pain that shot through his hand. He kept hitting Simon anyway.

"Ryan!" Frank yelled, desperately trying to pry the younger man off of the other. His strength was practically inhuman. "Calm down! Get off him!"

Ryan roared incoherently, like an enraged wild animal, still flailing desperately to tear Simon apart with his bare hands. It took Frank and another patrol officer to pull him off.

"Hook him up, please," Horatio's voice said calmly.

A second officer rolled Simon onto his side. He was too beat up and frightened to even resist. Officer fastened the handcuffs around his wrists and yanked him to his feet. Simon sobbed quietly as he was led away, his face bleeding heavily from multiple places.

The first officer that helped Frank restrain Ryan left to assist his partner in tossing Simon in the back of their squad car.

"Wolfe!"

Horatio turned at the sound of Frank's worried voice. He hurried to his CSI's side.

Ryan was on his hands and knees in the grass, coughing uncontrollably. Frank was kneeling beside him, a hand on Ryan's back. Horatio knelt down on the other side.

Ryan's coughs were harsh and hacking, shot through with a high-pitched whistling sound. He wheezed and gasped for air, as if he were drowning. His eyes were squeezed shut with the effort of trying to force air into his lungs over and over again, his whole body shaking.

"Breathe, Ryan," Horatio urged.

Ryan put his forearm to his mouth to cover the coughing, but he soon dropped it, as if he didn't have the strength to hold it up there. Horatio looked at his arm.

It was speckled with blood.

A jolt of fear zapped through Horatio's heart. Ryan was coughing up blood.

"Okay, hang in there, partner," he said sternly, moving to support Ryan. "We'll get you to the hospital, just hang in there."

Ryan didn't answer. He didn't even seem to hear Horatio. His coughing merely continued in a frightening crescendo, getting harsher and louder by the second.

"Come on, Wolfe, breathe!" Frank cried.

Ryan's eyes rolled up in his head and he collapsed on the ground.

"Damn!" Frank cursed, bending over his friend.

"Call a bus, Frank!" Horatio ordered.

He bent down over his unconscious CSI as Frank took out his phone to call it in. Ryan was completely still, barely breathing, his entire body drenched in sweat. His forehead was blazing hot, even hotter than he had been when he'd passed out a few hours before.

_Damn it, Ryan_, he thought.

"Mr. Wolfe, wake up!" he called loudly, fighting to keep any hint of fear from his voice. He shook the younger man's shoulder, but there was no response whatsoever. There were a few specks of blood on his blue-tinged lips from his coughing.

"Come on, Ryan," he said quietly. "Don't do this."

* * *

**Author's Note: **So Ryan finds Nat then catches Simon... and then passes out. My goodness. What's wrong with Ryan? (not telling) Is he okay? (no) Is Natalia okay? (maybe)

LOL, I guess you'll just have to wait for the next chapter! ;) Thanks for all the love and support!


	28. Fever of Unknown Origin

**XXVIII**

"Gunshot wound to the right upper quadrant. BP is 140/100, pulse 160."

Natalia stared up at the fluorescent lights as they whizzed by. She barely even bothered listening to what the paramedics were telling the doctors as they handed her off to them in the emergency room.

It had taken her nearly half of the ambulance ride to finally determine that she was neither dreaming nor dead as she had originally thought. When she heard Ryan's voice, seen his face... She'd thought it was too good to be true. She had assumed it wasn't. She couldn't believe it.

Not only was she alive, but she had been rescued. Ryan had found her.

She was still pretty out of it, feeling very weak and achy all over, but she was making a conscious effort to stay as awake and coherent as possible. A male doctor's face hovered above her head.

"Miss Boa Vista? Can you hear me?"

Her throat felt inhumanly dry, her eyelids droopy. Her whole body felt numb. She barely managed the tiniest of nods as the gurney was wheeled into an available trauma room.

"Do you know where you are?"

Natalia swept her thickened tongue over her parched lips. She looked up at the doctor and squeaked, "Hospital."

He smiled kindly at her as the nurses began hooking her up to monitors, an IV and a blood transfusion. "Good. We're gonna take care of you, okay? I'm Dr. Cooper, if you need anything or feel any pain at all just yell for me, all right?"

"...Okay," she whispered.

"Is there anyone we can call for you?" Dr. Cooper asked.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she thought of everyone she wanted with her at that moment. She just wanted to go home, be with people who would never hurt her, people she loved.

"...My parents?"

"We'll find them for you, honey," came a familiar silky voice. Natalia looked to her right and nearly cried out in relief.

Alexx came to her bedside and took hold of her hand. Natalia grabbed onto it like a lifeline.

"We gotcha, baby," Alexx said soothingly. "Just rest now, you're gonna be okay."

Natalia took a deep breath and closed her eyes, relieved. She couldn't help but believe Alexx. She tried to relax, just letting the doctors and nurses do their work.

Natalia heard a crash next door as another gurney slammed through the doors in the adjacent trauma room. Between all the noise in her room and the alarms and mixture of voices in the next room, she couldn't understand what was going on over there. She put it out of her mind.

"How are her vitals?" Alexx asked.

"She's responding well to fluid resucitation," one of the nurses answered. "Vitals are stabilizing with the transfusion."

"Looks like the bullet missed anything vital," Dr. Cooper said. "How's the pain, Miss Boa Vista? Do you need more morphine?"

Natalia shook her head slightly.

"Okay. We'll move you up to surgery soon," Dr. Cooper told her.

"Get every basin you can find and fill it with ice! Go!" yelled a voice next door.

A grave-looking nurse burst through the doors adjoining the two rooms. "I need more basins!" she announced to the team working on Natalia.

"There's a few in the cabinet," another nurse told her.

"What's going on in there?" Dr. Cooper asked her.

"Respiratory distress caused by an unknown illness," she explained quickly, filling her arms with metal basins. "His friend that brought him in said he was coughing up blood then collapsed ten minutes ago."

"What's with all the cops?" another nurse asked concernedly.

"He _is_ a cop," the nurses said, shouldering her way back into the other trauma room.

Natalia's attention was suddenly piqued. So was Alexx's. She turned to look through the glass in the doors. Natalia stomach flipflopped when Alexx's face changed from interested to shocked.

"Alexx, who is it?" Natalia demanded, but something in her pounding heart already knew the answer.

The door opened again. Natalia looked to her right into the next room.

Ryan was on the gurney next door.

Natalia gasped, fear rising in her chest. "Ryan?" she breathed.

He was lying very still as the doctors and nurses worked around him busily. His eyes were closed, his skin incredibly pale, even slightly tinged with blue. He was drenched in sweat, his hair soaked with it. She watched as a doctor fastened an oxygen mask around Ryan's face.

"Ryan!" she called desperately.

"She's ready, let's move her," Dr. Cooper said.

"No, wait!" Natalia yelled. "Ryan!"

"Natalia, sweetie, you need to stay calm," Alexx coaxed. They started wheeling Natalia out of the room.

"Alexx, you have to find out what's going on!" Natalia pleaded. "Please!"

"Okay, honey, just calm down," the older woman said soothingly. "I'll stay with him, okay? But you need to go with them to surgery now."

Tears flowed out of Natalia's pain-filled eyes. "He found me, Alexx," she whispered. "He saved me."

Alexx nodded, smiling bracingly. "I'll take care of him."

Natalia swallowed thickly, then nodded. She was borne away on the gurney toward the elevator to be taken up to surgery.

Alexx took a deep breath, then turned and entered the other trauma room.

She walked inside just in time to see three nurses and a doctor packing ice in plastic bags and metal basins on the bed all around Ryan.

"What's going on?" she asked loudly.

One of the doctors looked up at her. "We're trying to get his fever down, it's up to almost 107!" she called over the noise from the monitors.

"From _what_?" Alexx cried, hurrying over to Ryan's bedside. He looked terrible lying there, drenched in his own sweat.

"His breathing is getting worse, we may need to intubate," a nurse reported, listening to Ryan's chest with a stethoscope. "I'm hearing a lot of fluid in there."

Alexx moved to stand right next to Ryan's head. The temperature moniter next to the bed was steadily beeping in alarm, the red numbers reading 106.6 degrees. She stared at it fearfully; if his temperature got any higher, he ran the risk of brain damage and death.

"Has he been conscious at all?" Alexx asked.

"He's been talking a little," one of the nurses answered. "Nothing coherent, though."

Alexx looked down at Ryan. Despite all the years she'd known him, she still saw him as the eager, slightly awkward kid who first came to CSI six years ago. He'd come to be like a son to her.

And Natalia... She said he'd saved her... Alexx hadn't talked to anyone from CSI for a couple of weeks, so she had no idea what had happened that day. But she didn't need to know right now.

She'd promised Natalia she would take care of Ryan, and that was exactly what she was going to do.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Alexx is becoming like the CSIs' personal doctor :P Whenever one of them gets hurt, she just happens to be on call lol. Not that I have a problem with that! I really hope we'll see Alexx sometime this season. Of all the characters that left the show in whatever capacity, I miss her the most. Anyway, more soon! We're almost done, there's only two-ish chapters left!


	29. Waking Up

**XXIX**

He was wrapped in a soft cocoon of warm darkness. The emptiness of it was peaceful, as if nothing could ever go wrong there. Nothing could touch him, nothing could hurt him. But something was missing.

_What happened?_

His memory slowly came back to him, piece by piece like a child's puzzle. He heard a beeping noise, a quiet sigh. His whole body ached, his joints and muscles feeling as if they were made of water, and yet it wasn't a bad sort of weakness. It was the kind of weakness felt after a long, physically demanding task, the kind that tells the body it was time for a much-deserved rest.

Ryan's eyes flickered open. He was lying in a hospital bed, a breathing mask around his mouth and nose. He took one quick glance to his left and suddenly wished he was asleep again.

"Viral pneumonia," a very familiar voice growled.

Ryan gulped. He didn't think he'd ever seen Alexx so angry with him before.

"You've had it for a couple days now," she continued tightly. "Horatio tells me you've been sick for a while, but you decided to ignore taking care of yourself. According to your tests, you contracted the flu a week or so ago and then developed the pneumonia because you weren't resting enough."

Ryan reached a shaky hand to his face and pulled the mask off.

"But... Natalia..." he rasped, his voice feeling like wood splinters.

"Yes, Horatio told me all about that too," Alexx sighed, her demeanor softening. "I didn't say I didn't understand. You've been unconscious for almost seventeen hours now. Ryan, do you know that you could have died from this?"

He looked away, unable to meet her eyes. He couldn't admit it to her face that he had suspected, but he simply hadn't cared. He wasn't sure she would be _that_ understanding.

"We almost had to put you on a respirator just to keep you from drowning in all the fluid built up in your lungs," she continued harshly. "And how would that have helped Natalia?"

He blinked, still not meeting her eyes. He felt like a child being scolded by its mother.

There was a moment of silence. Then Alexx sighed.

"I know you two are tight," she said quietly, leaning forward to put a comforting hand on his arm. "I know what it's like to want to do anything and everything to save someone you love. But I'm gonna need you to promise me that you will _never _do something this _stupid _ever again."

He sighed. It was a promise he was unwilling to make, but he also knew that if he didn't, Alexx would be on his case until he finally did.

He turned to look at her. He saw the remnants of fear in her eyes, how worried for her friends she must have been when two of them were rushed to her at the same time. He saw compassion and motherly love there. She just cared about what happened to him, that's all.

"I promise," he whispered.

Alexx nodded. "All right then."

They sat together in the sunlight for a little while. Then Ryan asked the question that had been pricking his heart like a razor blade.

"Is Natalia okay?"

She smiled. "Yeah, sweetie, she's okay. She came out of surgery just fine yesterday. She spent the night in the surgical ICU, but she was moved to recovery this morning."

Ryan closed his eyes in utter relief.

Alexx squeezed his hand reassuringly. "She'll heal up just fine. And so will you."

"Can I see her?" he asked quietly.

Alexx smiled wryly. "She was asking about you too. Something tells me the only way we're gonna get either of you to rest is to let you have a visit."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Yay! The bad guy's caught and the good guys are all okay. But the story ain't over just yet! Stay tuned for one more chapter, my friends.

P.S. HOW AWESOME DOES SUNDAY'S EPISODE LOOK? I'M RIDICULOUSLY EXCITED.


	30. You Found Me

**Author's Note: **Totally forgot to mention this in my previous A/N... Kudos to dreamer285 for correctly guessing that Ryan had pneumonia!

* * *

**XXX**

The angel's face was blurred, all of his features distorted. Natalia didn't really mind it, though. His presence was soothing, surrounded by a golden glow. The faceless spirit reached toward her and took her hand. It felt pleasantly warm and much more solid than most dreams she had experienced before.

Natalia opened her eyes.

The sun was setting outside, casting her room in an orange glow. But that wasn't what was making her hand warm as it had felt in the dream. She looked to her right and smiled.

Her real-life angel was sitting next to her bed, his hand covering hers, sound asleep.

Her heart squeezed at the sight of Ryan. He was dressed in hospital-issued pajamas, sitting in a wheelchair that had his IV bag hanging above it. There was also an emergency oxygen tank mounted to the side of the chair. His sleep was peaceful, though his face was exhausted.

Natalia gently slid her hand out from under his and placed it on top, rubbing the back of his hand with her thumb.

Ryan stirred, his eyes flicking open. He gazed at her blearily as he sat up.

"Hi," she whispered.

He grinned. "Back at you."

Neither said anything for a long time, simply content to finally be together again.

"You didn't eat that soup I got you, did you?" she suddenly asked, half-heartedly joking.

Ryan chuckled. "Sorry, I got a little sidetracked."

She seemed to try to muster a brave smile, but it was pained at best. Then it flickered as her chin began to quiver. She dropped her gaze to her lap and covered her face with her free hand.

Ryan moved forward to be even closer to her, holding her hand tightly. She returned the grip as the tears began to fall.

Ryan sat there quietly, letting her let out her raging emotions.

"He's going away forever," he promised quietly. "He's _never _going to hurt you again."

She nodded, but the sobs still rattled in her chest.

Ryan's heart ached at the sight. Natalia was the strongest person he knew. To see her like this could only mean she'd been through hell and back. He'd seen the blood, the bruises.

He'd seen the bite mark on her chest.

Ice suddenly flashed into his veins. He hadn't realized what that mark was until just that moment. He'd been too concerned with getting her off the boat to really think about, but he had definitely seen that tell-tale bruise pattern on her chest when he'd moved her.

Nausea churned in his gut and a lump rose in his throat. Breathing was suddenly very painful.

Had Simon...?

"He was just... so _creepy_," she sobbed, trying to get a hold of herself. "He... He tried to..."

She couldn't finish, simply shaking her head. Ryan's heart pounded numbly in his throat.

_Tried... Means he didn't... Or at least didn't fully succeed._

Somehow he didn't feel much better. And he suspected Natalia didn't either. He just wished he could somehow erase this whole ordeal.

Ryan carefully stood up from his wheelchair, his legs still pretty shaky. He gingerly climbed onto the bed, mindful of both his own and her IV lines, and lay down on his side next to her. He wrapped his arms around her protectively. He simply didn't know what else to do.

Natalia latched onto him like an anchor. She tucked her head under his chin and cried her heart out into his shirt.

For the first time since she'd been taken, she finally felt safe.

"I knew you'd find me," she whispered.

**-()-**

"The guy deserved the needle," Walter grumbled. He walked alongside Calleigh and Eric down the hallway of the hospital, on their way to visit their colleagues after another long day at work.

"I agree," Eric said mildly. "But with his lawyer pleading diminished capacity, we'll just have to be satisfied with life without a chance of parole."

"Good riddance," Calleigh said darkly. "I'm just glad Ryan and Natalia okay."

They came to the room number Alexx had told them. They quietly walked inside and stopped right at the threshold.

Natalia was sleeping on the bed. Ryan was sleeping right next to her, his arm around her.

It took the three of them a second to overcome the initial surprise of the scene before them.

"Seems like they're more than 'okay' to me," Eric said dryly, grinning.

"I guess," Calleigh giggled. She silently tiptoed toward the bed to place the flowers in her hands on the bedside table, then hurried back to where the men were standing.

Walter looked down at her, a quizzical look on his face. "You still sure there's nothin' goin' on there?" he asked mischievously.

Calleigh smirked, nudging past Eric and Walter to leave the room. "Come on, boys."

**THE END**

* * *

**Author's Note: **Sigh. Wow. Another story finished. As always, it's been a blast, my friends. I am so thankful that I have this place to come to for a creative outlet and share my stories with people just like me (you know, COMPLETELY obsessed with the most awesomest show EVER).

I have already begun work on my next story. I've been brainstorming quite a bit and have planned out about seven chapters already. As usual, I won't start writing until I get it all planned out, but I'm not anticipating a long wait :P. Between the show itself and all of your fantastic stories, my inspiration fire is being constantly fueled these days. I'm really excited for this next story, probably the most excited I've ever been about a story. It's going to be darker, grittier and more suspenseful than anything I've ever written before, and I'll be pushing my own boundaries in ways that may even surprise you.

It's a sequel to Demons. ;P Let that one taunt your imagination for a bit.

Anyways, as always thank you so much for all the great feedback and praise. You're the best!


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